


Can't Help From Speaking My Mind

by oceans4jinyoung



Category: GOT7
Genre: Cheating, Family Reunions, Friends With Benefits, Love at First Sight, M/M, Phone Sex, slight jinson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-22
Updated: 2020-09-22
Packaged: 2021-03-06 23:00:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 24,208
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26226787
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oceans4jinyoung/pseuds/oceans4jinyoung
Summary: Jinyoung has perfected the art of supplementing his monotonous professional life with a chaotic personal one.  So when he feels like he's finally met his match in Mark, he’s intrigued to say the least.  Until he finds out that Mark is his cousin’s boyfriend and decides that is the one place he isn’t willing to go.  Instead, he spends his days trying to focus on the cast of characters from his routine hookups.  But Mark won’t let himself be forgotten so easily and keeps finding ways to draw them back together.  As Mark’s persistence wears Jinyoung down, he fears that Mark may be the only person who can best him at his own games.
Relationships: Choi Youngjae/Park Jinyoung, Kunpimook Bhuwakul | BamBam/Im Jaebum | JB/Park Jinyoung, Park Jinyoung/Mark Tuan
Comments: 35
Kudos: 113
Collections: Spring Blooms: MarkJin Fic Fest 2020





	Can't Help From Speaking My Mind

**Author's Note:**

> Here's the **Spotify playlist** for this story.
> 
> [Speaking My Mind](https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1F2vtLz01yVN1IswfbAyS7?si=O1QPvm13QJCoyvaGXPLpDA)
> 
> Come yell at me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/oceans4jinyoung) and [Curious Cat](https://curiouscat.me/oceans4jinyoung)!!

“Fuck,” Jinyoung hissed as soon as he saw the time on the alarm clock.

“Again?” Youngjae huffed, reentering the penthouse bedroom in a silk robe with a cup of coffee in hand. “We went three rounds last night.”

“No,” Jinyoung groaned. “I’m late.” He stumbled out of bed, grabbing his pants from the floor and clumsily trying to pull them on. “Goddamn it, Youngjae. Why didn’t you design this headboard to reach far enough to charge a goddamn phone?”

Youngjae took a seat in a leather chair by the window, the view behind him overlooking the river below. “It’s intentional,” he shrugged. “I’m trying to separate work and rest.”

“Well, my phone’s dead and I’m late.”

“What are you even late for? You have another client to attend to?” he asked, quirking a brow over the brim of his cup.

Jinyoung aimed a glare straight at him. “I might sleep around more than I should, but can we refrain from exaggerating it into this narrative that I’m a prostitute? A narrative that I do not find as funny as you do.”

“Fine,” Youngjae rolled his eyes. “Who is it? The personal trainer? The DJ and the bartender? Someone new from Haebangchon?” He scoffed, putting his feet up on the table. “God, that place is really just a hipster rat’s nest of a neighborhood, isn’t it?”

“None of the above, thank you very much,” Jinyoung said, going to Youngjae’s closet and sliding the mirrored door open. “I have a family reunion to go to.” He started parsing through the kaleidoscope of dress shirts that hung on wood hangers. A gilded _CYJ_ on each of them.

“Family reunion?” he muttered. “That sounds lame as hell.”

Jinyoung settled on a crisp blue vertical stripe, pulling it off the hanger and throwing it over his shoulders. 

“Woah woah woah,” Youngjae protested. “What do you think you’re doing?”

“This is payback for making me so late,” Jinyoung said as he started doing up the buttons. “God, my mother might actually murder me.”

“You’re paying for the dry cleaning,” Youngjae scowled. “Those shirts are custom made.”

“On a Korean language teacher’s paycheck?” Jinyoung scoffed. “Please.” 

Youngjae shrugged, “You’re the one who got fired from being an office assistant at the architecture firm.”

“Yeah, for giving _you_ head in the copy room,” Jinyoung looked at himself in the mirror, smoothing his hands over the shirt. “Yet, you didn’t get fired, Mr. Senior Designer.”

“I’m what they call an indispensable asset.”

Jinyoung turned, coming up and putting his hands onto Youngjae’s thighs. “Really?” he raised his brow. “Cause I’m pretty sure you told me last night that no one in this whole city gives better head than me.”

Youngjae looked at him flatly, tongue working into his cheek. He sighed. “Then, I’m sure we can find an alternate method of repayment for the dry cleaning.”

Jinyoung smiled. “You’re an asshole and I’m leaving.” He scooped up his bag from the floor, making his way out.

“Bye, Jinyoung,” Youngjae called after him. “Have fun at your little reunion. Call me when your other clients’ checks bounce.”

\---

_God damn, it’s hot._

Jinyoung was sweating through that shirt he had borrowed from Youngjae. It was far too tight and he could feel the strain of the buttons as he rushed to the subway. And as he waited for the train, fanning himself uselessly, he remembered it was spring. In Seoul. He shouldn’t have been so overheated. But there had been an unusually warm spell for early April that had made all the cherry blossoms burst open all at once. And when the cherry blossoms bloomed, so did the green line that Jinyoung had to transfer onto, heading from Youngjae’s penthouse to the hall his family had rented for the reunion.

When he got to the hall, he rushed up to the front desk, asking for which floor the family was on, what room.

_7th floor. Room 709._

“Thank you.” He twisted his head around, frantically searching, until the person at the desk raised an eyebrow and pointed toward the golden elevators on the left.

“Thank you,” he repeated.

He nearly jammed his finger hitting the seven button and then nearly again on the door close button, watching his reflection appear in the metallic shine of the doors. And he could see his tired eyes, his unkempt hair, the slight stubble at his upper lip. Exactly the image of calm and collected he wanted to portray for the family reunion. _Not._

When the doors jolted, so did Jinyoung’s shoulders. And when they reopened, Jinyoung wasn’t faced with his reflection anymore, but instead with the image of someone else.

The man was standing there, hips lopsided from where he leaned heavier on one sneaker than the other, dwarfing his height in the process. A shirt big enough to fit two of him and jeans that were ripped at the knees. And at first glance, Jinyoung was sure the purple hue in his hair was a trick of the light.

The man raised his head, meeting Jinyoung’s eyes. And there was a certain refined attractiveness to him. The kind that was usually reserved for fairy tale princes and timeless starlets. It contrasted against the casualness of his clothes, adding immediate intrigue. But even in the brief moment, it was hard for Jinyoung to focus on anything more than his dark eyes and the way they went immediately went too intent. Fixed on his face. Unmoving. 

Jinyoung felt that tightness of his shirt a little more as the moment stretched out too long. He blinked, raising a brow, “Are you going up?”

And the man didn’t speak. He just came into the elevator. The change of light confirming the streaks of purple in his hair as he took his place at Jinyoung’s side. Not even looking at the buttons.

And Jinyoung thought it was strange but held his tongue as the doors closed. The metallic shine of them now reflecting two instead of one. And when Jinyoung’s gaze went to the reflection of the man, he saw him still staring back with those dark eyes. Not coy or shy at all, but just as intent as before.

Jinyoung looked away. Focusing instead on running his fingers through his messy hair in an effort to make it cooperate. Feeling the press of those eyes on him, making that sweat on his skin feel cool underneath the air conditioning. Cool enough to make him shiver.

When the elevator doors opened to the seventh floor, the man stepped forward first. And as he did, he looked back over his shoulder.

Jinyoung looked at him. His mouth falling open. Ready to ask him if this was his floor too.

But the man didn’t give him the chance before he was smirking and craning his neck, beckoning for Jinyoung to follow him, turning down the hall out of sight.

Jinyoung stood there, befuddled. His words dried up on his tongue. Replaying it like he must have been mistaken. Like maybe, the man himself was some trick of the light. He peeked over the edge of the elevator, seeing that he was, in fact, still there. Walking down the length of the hallway in entirely the opposite direction from where Jinyoung was supposed to be heading towards the reunion.

Jinyoung’s mind reeled. Feeling like Alice watching the White Rabbit run past and deciding whether or not to chase him.

“Where are you going?” he called out.

The man spun around, that smirk on his face even wider as he beckoned again before turning into the bathroom.

And if there had been any doubt in Jinyoung’s mind about where this was going, that itself confirmed it. 

Obviously, Jinyoung himself wasn’t a stranger to hooking up, but typically there were a few more steps in this process. A few more words exchanged, a few more drinks downed before this point. But remembering that intentness in the man’s handsome face was intriguing enough to have him turning down the hallway, checking over his shoulder to make sure that no one from his family had wandered far enough to see him. When the coast seemed clear, he slipped into the bathroom.

When Jinyoung came in, the man was standing at the sink, bracing himself against the counter. He turned to look at him. His dark eyes catching the fluorescent light.

And Jinyoung couldn’t explain what about it had him backing himself into the door, his chest twisting up just below the surface. It must have been the mixture of fear and thrill at the prospect of whatever was about to happen.

He tried to hold himself steady. “S-so what’s your name?” he stammered.

But the man didn’t reply. His face didn’t even track the words. He just came forward, crowding Jinyoung against the door. One hand coming up to his cheek as the other went down to flip the lock somewhere around Jinyoung’s hip.

That sound of the lock jolted Jinyoung’s shoulders, but it couldn’t pull his eyes away from the man’s face that was now closer than it had ever been. The press of his intent eyes and the precision of his features. Every little detail about him amplified and somehow even more beautiful from here.

And something about it just tightened Jinyoung up even more, feeling the last desperate breath be pulled from his lungs. Dizzy and heightened by the anticipation. And wanting to just dive right into whatever this was. So he didn’t hesitate anymore, instead he closed the space between their mouths. And the nervous thrum of his body reacted instantly, soaring with the feeling of the man’s mouth. Just as soft as his hands but just as intent as his eyes.

That hand at Jinyoung’s face pulled him in harder, deeper as he opened the kiss up, tongue trailing into his mouth.

Jinyoung’s head was so clouded with how good it was that he nearly didn’t realize what was missing. It was the clusiminess, the fumbling. The meeting of noses and teeth that was so commonplace when Jinyoung would usually kiss people for the first time. But there wasn’t any of that here. It was nearly practiced, smooth. Like some careful dance they both knew.

Jinyoung could feel his body reacting to it, opening up in ways it only did when he was way too far into his drinks or way too deprived to stop. And he was neither of those things now so he couldn’t understand why everything about it felt so easy and fluid and good. He could feel the tightening of his core that cascaded down between his legs. Suddenly feeling a lack of pressure there that had him yearning for more.

And as if reading his mind, that man’s hand at his face trailed down his neck, his chest, his stomach. Fingers splayed and forceful against him before they hit exactly where he’d been yearning for them to go. Palm pressing down the hard line of his dick so insistently that Jinyoung felt his hips kick up towards it, his own hands fisting into the man’s shirt and pulling him even closer.

He felt the stretch of the man’s smile against his mouth. And even if Jinyoung couldn’t see it, he could feel how smug it was. How much joy this man was getting from feeling him unravel wordlessly under him. And that did nothing but make Jinyoung want to encourage him more. So he pulled away, looking into the man’s eyes, breaths seething through his lungs. And without tearing his eyes away, he let his own hands find his belt. He unbuckled it, watching how the man's gaze couldn’t help but flick down to watch, biting at those kiss swollen lips of his.

Jinyoung undid his pants letting them hang open as his hands fell away. Like an invitation, an ellipses. Waiting to see what the man would do. 

The man’s hand against his dick shifted, fingertips slowly walking themselves upwards to the line of his pants. And they dipped inside, feeling all the skin between his hips before going lower. Watching himself do it like it was turning him on just to watch. And with one deft movement, he was freeing Jinyoung’s hard cock from his clothes, hissing through his teeth at the sight of it.

Jinyoung laughed, emboldened by the way the man was so entranced. His hands came up under his chin, raising his bright eyes to his own. Watching the smile spread across his face, so beautiful that Jinyoung couldn’t help but lean closer and kiss him again.

The man’s fingers wrapped around Jinyoung’s cock, giving one small jerk that had Jinyoung’s knees going weak.

His eyebrows knitted together and a soft whine fell against the man’s mouth because when had simply fingers ever felt this good? And in response, he felt that smug smile spread against his mouth again. Feeling that same desire to encourage him again. So he pulled away, his mouth going to the man’s ear to whine again. Lewd and showy, but soft enough to not echo off the bathroom walls and be heard elsewhere.

The man’s hand tightened around him, picking up into a smooth rhythm that had Jinyoung’s knees wanting to buckle again.

“Fuck,” Jinyoung moaned. “Why does that feel so good?”

It was a good thing he wasn’t looking for a response, because he didn’t get one. Instead, the man’s hips pressed closer into him, grinding down against his leg.

And Jinyoung could feel the firm line of his body where he was just as hard. He felt it everywhere, that eagerness in the man’s insistence that told him exactly what Jinyoung needed to hear. That this person wanted him so bad that he didn’t even need to know him, speak to him. And Jinyoung’s unmistakable hunger, the one that fueled all of his hookups, roared to life. It had him fisting that man’s shirt again to switch them, pressing him up against the door instead.

And as soon as the man’s shoulders hit with a loud thump, he was smiling again. The beautiful, bright smile that went all the way to his eyes. 

Jinyoung’s hand didn’t hesitate finding the button of the man’s jeans and deftly undoing it. He didn’t hesitate pulling his jeans down enough to free his hard cock, wrapping his own hand around it and starting to fist him in time.

The man’s shoulders fell, nearly sighing in relief as Jinyoung touched him. He reached out his other hand, gripping Jinyoung’s nape and drawing him forward to lick into his mouth again.

And Jinyoung felt everything. The slide of his wet mouth and the unrelenting motion of his fingers and how nicely he filled out Jinyoung’s hand. And it had him shuddering, not sure he ever even wanted to get off but maybe just exist in this heavenly present forever.

The man pulled away, his eyes going down to watch Jinyoung’s cock slip between his fingers.

And Jinyoung’s eyes followed, mesmerized by the glossy shine of precum at his head, seeping down onto the man’s knuckles.

The man must have noticed too, because he drew his hand away, bringing it to his lips and started languidly licking at those shiny fingers. Closing his eyes and making a show of it, like it was the most delicious thing he’d ever tasted.

And Jinyoung shuddered again, a soft whimper in his mouth as he tightened up everywhere, even his hand around the man’s cock.

The man smirked from behind his knuckles, eyes falling on him again. That glint under the light looking so dangerous and alive.

Jinyoung precariously wondered if his whole life had been leading up to them taking the same elevator.

His hand seemed to double its efforts, working even more insistent against the man’s cock. Wanting him to be dragged down into this just as deep as he was. 

And maybe it was working because that dangerous glint in his eyes faltered just enough. And Jinyoung saw a bob in his throat, felt a twitch in his dick that gave him away. That told Jinyoung just how close he was getting. But nevertheless, the man’s hand reached for Jinyoung’s cock again, meeting his insistence. 

It spurred Jinyoung on even more, wondering who might be the first to crack under the pressure that they just kept heightening.

As if giving him his answer, he saw the shudder of the man’s shoulders caving together. His face falling and his mouth opening, on the edge of a sound that Jinyoung so desperately wanted to hear.

Jinyoung fixated on his open mouth and his dark eyes, his gaze traveling down to his neck. He watched the pretty way his muscles were tightening, making the soft curve of his neck go taut. And Jinyoung licked his lips before leaning forward and putting his mouth there. Sucking down on the spot, teeth teasing at it.

The man stiffened, skin twitching and quivering. The breaths in his chest stuttering before he let out that moan he’d been holding in his throat.

And Jinyoung felt him seep across his fingers, so warm and smooth as he worked him through his climax. As he felt the man’s shoulders give out, leaning back up against the door. Jinyoung pulled away, catching the smile on his face. Like a laugh was stitched between each sharp tooth glinting white under the fluorescent light.

The feeling it elicited wasn’t between Jinyoung’s legs, where he was throbbing even harder under every fluid stroke, but it was somewhere in his chest. Something light that filled it wider. That felt like the deepest breath he’d ever taken. So deep that it nearly felt like a dull ache that he couldn’t quell. And he’d never felt anything like it.

But that feeling was so narrowly eclipsed by the combusting pressure of his body, taking him by surprise as he gritted his teeth, groaning through his climax. And when his body unclenched, he looked up into the man’s face. Seeing the smug smile there, stretched so wide that he couldn’t help but mirror it.

The man pulled him closer again, kissing him but there was no urgency in this one. No heated, insatiable pull. No, instead it was soft, tender. Something that brought that airy, unfamiliar feeling back into Jinyoung’s chest, leaving him feeling immediately insatiable again, but for something different. Something he couldn’t put his finger on. He just knew that he could have kissed him again and again and again. And it was so foreign that instead of giving in, he fought it, pulling away from that kiss and going to the sink to wash his hands.

His eyes cast down to his hands where he watched the soap and water sud. Cleaning the man’s cum away. Serving as some physical reminder of what they’d just done. And while part of him wanted to admit that what had just happened was insane, there was an even bigger, louder part that needed to know more. That needed to understand why exactly that whole encounter had felt more intense than any hookup from his memory. That needed to be able to quantify the persistent ache in his chest. That needed to know who this person was and how exactly they’d gotten there and when they could get there again.

“Hey,” he called. “Maybe we should exchange num-” He looked up in the mirror toward the door, seeing nothing there. He turned towards it, but his eyes hadn’t failed him. The man was gone.

\---

“Jinyoung. Please. The least you could have done was be on time,” his mom chastised in that way only she could. The kind of tone that couldn’t decide whether it wanted to be a joke or an insult or a plea. “Are you hungover again?”

“No,” he said, not fully confident it was true. And judging by the lingering throb at his temples and Youngjae’s weakness for artisanally aged whiskey, it probably wasn’t. Not to mention the post-climax haze that was still dripping through his veins. But he was praying that she wouldn’t notice that. “I’m here now,” he sighed, looking out across the room his family had rented. His relatives were scattered, sitting two to a table and talking animatedly with each other. “What is everyone even doing?”

“Ice breakers.”

Jinyoung huffed. “Glad I didn’t miss anything.”

“Stop it,” his mom said, flatly. Her face sparked in realization. She snapped her fingers. “Actually, I have the perfect partner for you.”

Jinyoung’s eyes narrowed. “For me? Why me?”

She rolled her eyes, pointing to the table in the corner. The one that seemed distant from the other action in the room. 

Jinyoung looked, his stomach immediately sinking as his eyes fell upon purple hair. The man from the elevator was sitting all alone at the table, chin in one hand. He was rapping the long fingers on his other hand against the table, looking bored and aloof in that beautiful, elegant way.

“He’s visiting from America,” his mom said. “Los Angeles. He doesn’t know a lick of Korean.”

Jinyoung’s stomach sank even further. Realizing that’s why he hadn’t spoken, hadn’t responded.

“Go. Here’s your icebreaker,” she shoved an envelope into his hands. “Just go... break the ice!” She started pushing him towards the table.

Jinyoung twisted his neck, trying to look at her. Fumbling over his words, “Is he from the Song side? The Kim side?”

“You’re running out of time,” she huffed, pushing him harder. “Just go.”

Jinyoung’s steps towards the table in the corner were slow, reluctant, winding through the chattering family members with little care because he was too focused. Studying the slant of the man’s shoulder as he leaned his head into his hand. The lovely curve of his neck. Even from a distance, Jinyoung could see the slight purpling hue of his own bite against the skin. Ready to applaud himself for the way it paralleled the purple color of his hair.

_Stop. He’s probably your distant cousin. You just jerked off your cousin at a family reunion. You’ve truly reached a new low, Jinyoung._

And yet, when he tried to briefly think through the family tree, he couldn’t think of any members who had moved to America. Anyone who wouldn’t know Korean. Who was this man?

Jinyoung came up to the table, sinking down in the seat across and watching the man’s eyes slowly raise up to his.

And it was curious the way they flashed. Going from something quiet and subdued to that same lively intensity Jinyoung had seen in the bathroom.

And then, there was immediately that weird stab of horrific disgust when Jinyoung realized he was doing it again. Admiring his relative in a way that he really shouldn’t have been. Maybe that had been the weird feeling in his chest, some biological pull of their genes, their mismatched pheromones trying to warn him.

“So,” Jinyoung started to say in English. Trying to keep the wince off his face. “We’re... family? I don’t think we’ve met before.”

The man stared back. That intensity so close that it made Jinyoung feel uneasy. Feeling like prey pinned underneath the sharp stare of a predator. Making the whole room feel miles away. The noise and the crowd and the familiar faces. All becoming a distant hum, even quieter than the thrum of Jinyoung’s pulse that seemed to heighten in his ears. 

The man smirked. “I think we met earlier. In the bathroom,” he tilted his head. “Though I’m sorry for assuming you didn’t know English.”

And now, Jinyoung really did feel sick to his stomach. Remembering the way his body had so readily fallen open to him. And hating how even now there was something about his predatory gaze that made Jinyoung feel less regretful than he knew he should have been. He pulled at his collar, desperately trying to get a handle on himself. He coughed, “Maybe not the formal meeting it should have been.” He extended his hand. “I’m Jinyoung.”

The man smiled, shaking his hand. “Mark,” he said. “Pleasure.”

Jinyoung felt the vile crawl against his skin when he distantly wondered if he’d still be able to smell himself on Mark’s hand. He bit back the thought. “I didn’t know we had family in Los Angeles. Are you the Song side? The Kim side?”

Mark’s smile grew twice as wide. His dark eyes brightening as they crescented. He bit his lips. “We’re not related.”

Jinyoung’s shoulders fell in relief. “Thank fucking god,” he breathed. He put his face into his hands, groaning, “Why didn’t you start with that?”

Mark laughed. “I don’t know. I kind of liked watching you squirm around in your little incest panic.”

Jinyoung looked up at him. “Thanks for that,” he rolled his eyes. “What brings you to this family reunion then?”

“I came with Yugyeom.”

“My baby cousin?” he blinked, thinking. “Oh. You must have met him when he studied abroad in Los Angeles last year.”

“Mmhm,” Mark nodded. “I’m in town visiting him. Meeting his family.”

“Did he give you any warnings about us?”

“Oh, of course. He gave me the crash course,” Mark smirked. He looked around the room, narrowing his eyes. “There is Aunt Sunmin. Yugyeom said she’s a real hardass.”

Jinyoung followed his eyes. “Yeah, that would be my mom. An accurate description.”

Mark’s gaze shifted over, beckoning to an old man sitting across the room. “And Great Uncle Sanghyo. He’s a bit of a drunk.”

“Also true.”

“And then there’s cousin, Jinyoung,” he looked at him, raising his brows. “Inarguably, the most handsome cousin. Yugyeom kind of idolizes him. But he hates the way the family has relegated him to a parable on wasted potential. Not that Jinyoung really cares what any of them think,” he leaned his chin into his hand again, smiling.

Jinyoung looked at him, memorizing the pleasant angle of his mouth. “It’s easier not to care,” he shrugged. He stopped. “Wait. You knew about me?”

Mark huffed, smile widening until his sharp bite gleamed. “Your pictures don’t do you justice,” he winked.

Jinyoung stilled, realizing that his initial instincts hadn’t failed him. If Mark’s stare had felt predatory, that’s because it was. Because though their interaction in the bathroom felt spontaneous, it wasn’t. It was premeditated. And Mark wasn’t even trying to hide it.

Jinyoung felt a heated itch crawl up his spine, knowing that the information should have made the whole thing feel creepy but surprised when it just turned him on again. He toyed with the envelope between his fingers, needing to do something with his hands just to make sure he didn’t reach them out towards the man. To push him away or pull him closer, he wasn’t quite sure. “Well,” he breathed. “My mom gave us an ice breaker,” he raised the envelope. “She said to read it and discuss it.”

“We best follow her instructions then.”

Jinyoung opened the envelope pulling out a card and translating it outloud. “Where do you see yourself in three months? Six months? A year?”

Mark shrugged, “You first.”

Jinyoung sat back in his chair, tapping the card against the table. And he wanted to put on some polite, bullshit answer. Something that would have made a pageant queen proud. And maybe if he had been slightly less hungover, he could have. Maybe if Mark hadn’t just broken him down to nothing in the bathroom. Or if he wasn’t so insistently drilling his eyes into Jinyoung’s face. Maybe then it would have been easier to find some weak excuse. 

“How honest should I be?”

Mark smiled. “We’ve gotten each other off. Surely, there’s no point in hiding anything now.”

Jinyoung stared at him, knowing he was right. He sat up, trying to carefully consider his words before realizing that eloquence, like every other nicety they’d managed to bulldoze in their short time knowing each other, was futile.

“I have no fucking idea what my life looks like next week, let alone a year from now.”

“And why’s that?” Mark asked, dark eyes holding far too much in them that Jinyoung couldn’t piece apart.

Jinyoung’s words fell with little filter. “I’m not going anywhere. I’m not doing anything,” he shrugged. “Well, I’m teaching Korean classes to foreigners. Making just enough money to fuel my social life. Which is extensive, let me tell you.”

Mark raised an eyebrow.

Jinyoung bit his lip. “Okay. Maybe not extensive,” he admitted. “I live in this area of the city called Haebangchon. Foreigners call it HBC. And while living there, I’ve amassed this kind of rotating cast of familiar characters. And they are all great. Well, not great maybe. But they…” His words trailed off. He sat forward in his chair, pointing a finger towards Mark’s face. “I’ll preface this by saying that if you tell my mom or aunt or cousin or anyone, I’ll kill you.”

Mark shrank away under the sudden shift of Jinyoung’s tone. “Okay, okay,” he held up his hands. “God. Who would I even tell? Yugyeom’s the only other person in your family who speaks English.”

“Just to be sure,” Jinyoung sat back. “Okay, well. I guess Youngjae was first. He’s an architect. Some sort of prodigy at that. Stupid filthy rich because of it. I was looking for jobs last year. The firm he worked at needed an assistant. You know, answer phones, make copies,” he explained. “I nailed the interview. Charmed the shit out of the boss. But then I guess I had to meet Youngjae,” he rolled his eyes. “And he had to be a total asshole. And I had to kind of like it. So on my second day, he got mad at me for acting too cheery on the phone. Dick. Anyway, I got fired for blowing him in the copy room. He kept his job. Corporate double standard bullshit. And yet, he kept my number for when I want to leave HBC and sleep on a thread count higher than my account balance.”

“Alright. Rich asshole architect. Check,” Mark held up a finger. “Who was next?”

“Next, I met Jackson. He was a student in my Korean class last winter. He is a personal trainer, just moved here. He was trying to build his clientele, so he invited me to have a free session,” he shrugged. “And I knew he was hot but I didn’t really know what he looked like under his winter sweaters and parka. So when I showed up at the gym that day and saw him wearing a muscle tank and leggings?” Jinyoung hissed remembering it, “I think we lasted half an hour before we ended up in the locker room shower.”

“Is he still in your classes?”

“I tutor him privately now. At his apartment down the hill from me,” Jinyoung nodded. “His Korean’s really improved. He just prefers a more hands on method.”

“Of course, he does,” Mark huffed. He held up a second finger. “Personal trainer. Check. Next?”

“Next,” Jinyoung thought, smiling. “I met Jaebeom and Bambam on a night out. They work at a club in my neighborhood. Jaebeom is a DJ, who dreams of producing music, and Bambam is a bartender, who makes the meanest drinks in HBC. I was drunk on said drinks, lost my credit cards, and they cornered me. Asked me if I wanted to sober up at their house and wait for the trains to start up again. I took them up on it. Assumed they were roommates who liked to share. But when I got to their place, it was this super artsy studio loft in the hills. One bed,” he said. “Honestly, they're a cute couple,” he smiled. “We talked for a little. Had a few more drinks. They asked if I’d ever been a third before. I hadn’t entertained the idea, but they were persuasive. And now, all my drinks are on the house.”

“You’re wild,” Mark smiled. “But you know that.”

“I’m bored,” Jinyoung shrugged.

“It’s more than that.”

“Is it?”

Mark nodded, a look of sureness in his features. “Mmhm,” he hummed.

Jinyoung leaned forward, entranced by the sparkle in his eyes. “Then, indulge me.”

“I’ve already indulged you once today,” he said. “Let’s wait a few hours before I do it again.”

Jinyoung felt the warmth bubble up so strong he had to take a breath to calm it.

Mark must have noticed because he smiled wide. “Okay. Club couple. Check,” he held up a third finger. “Next?”

Jinyoung smirked. “And next is you.”

“Me?” Mark laughed. “Am I in the rotation now?”

Jinyoung’s shoe found Mark’s calf under the table, working up the length of it. “How long are you staying here?”

Mark’s tongue worked against the tip of his canine. “A week.”

Jinyoung’s shoe settled into his lap, pressing against him. “I think we could work in a few rotations then,” he said, feeling Mark’s dick jump against the sole.

The man’s mouth fell open. To speak or to moan, Jinyoung never found out. Because before he could, Jinyoung’s mom’s voice was ringing in his ears. 

“That’s time!” she shouted, quieting the chatter of the room to nothing. “Everyone switch partners.”

Jinyoung looked to Mark, foot still pressing down on him. “She wants us to switch to partners.”

Mark’s chest widened in a breath. “You probably should,” he said. “Don’t give her another reason to bite your head off.”

Jinyoung pulled his foot away, “You’re learning fast.” He stood up. “You’ll be sticking around, I assume?”

“Yeah,” Mark nodded. “We can talk later.”

\---

What happened at the rest of the reunion was inconsequential compared to the glances that Jinyoung kept stealing from Mark across the room. No matter what activities his mom was shuffling them between, their eyes wouldn’t hesitate to meet anytime there was the briefest pause.

Jinyoung worked the room, visiting with his family members. The press of Mark’s lively gaze no longer suffocating but invigorating as Jinyoung felt himself perform for it. Sharing a laugh and some banter with anyone who approached him in a way that was much more characteristic of him on a night out then him at one of these reunions.

Dinner was served. A generous buffet of homemade items prepared by the family. Jinyoung spotted Mark in the line, starting to sneak up on him, when someone called out his name from across the room.

He looked up, seeing his aunt and mom sitting close together at a table, digging into their food and inviting him over.

He sighed, coming up next to them. “Hello, Imo. How are you?”

“I’m good, Jinyoung,” she smiled. “Take a seat.”

“I was actually just going to get some food,” he protested, pointing back towards the line.

“Get food after. We need to talk first.”

And it sounded ominous enough that Jinyoung knew he wouldn’t be walking away from this one. He took a seat next to them.

“So,” she said, taking a sip of her drink. “I saw that you met Mark.”

Jinyoung felt a little warmer just at the mention of him. “Yeah,” he smiled. “Nice guy. I’m happy Yugyeom brought him.”

“Well,” she started. “Yugyeom has class this week so he doesn’t really have a lot of time available. Your mom said your schedule’s pretty lenient. So we were wondering if you’d be able to take Mark around Seoul. Show him some sights. Since you both speak English and all.”

Jinyoung felt the smirk spread across his face. “Yeah,” he shrugged. “I think I could do that.”

“Wonderful,” she cheered. “I’m just so glad that Yugyeom has found such a nice boyfriend. Even if he does live so far away.”

“Yeah,” Jinyoung smiled. “He’s really-” he stopped. “Wait, I’m sorry. Did you say boyfriend?”

“Of course,” she nodded. “Yugyeom’s been so excited for us to finally meet him. He said even though they’ve been long-distance since last year that things have been getting really serious. I’m half expecting him to want to move to America when he graduates.”

“Oh,” Jinyoung’s mom gasped. “That’s so scary. So far.”

“I know,” his aunt sighed. “But I’d feel better knowing he’s got a nice older boyfriend to go with. Someone who will watch out for him.” She turned, looking over. “Jinyoung, close your mouth. You’ll catch flies.”

“What?” Jinyoung blinked. “Sorry. I just,” he reeled, trying to find an excuse. “That’s so far. I didn’t know… Yugyeom wanted to move.”

“Well, we will see how this week goes,” his aunt nodded. “My first impression of the boy is that he seems very confident. Very trustworthy. What do you think, Jinyoung?”

Jinyoung’s brain flatlined. “He’s definitely confident,” he breathed. “No doubt there.”

His aunt put a hand to his shoulder. “Thank you for agreeing to show him around,” she said, genuinely. “Keep me updated though. The worst thing that could happen is my son moves away to America to live with some California Casanova.”

“Yeah, no,” Jinyoung fumbled, still trying to swallow down his shock. “I’ll vet him. Don’t worry.”

Jinyoung didn’t approach Mark after that. He just waited to get himself some food, sat down at a table as far as he could get from Mark’s stare. But even as he started picking at his meal, he felt nauseous. His mind playing back what they’d done in the bathroom. What they’d said to each other at the table. And he looked up, watching his baby cousin happily laughing at Mark’s side. And he felt the immediate stab of guilt for what he’d done. Knowing that if he had known, he would have never done it. Not to his favorite cousin.

 _Should I tell Yugyeom?_ Jinyoung thought to himself. _Fuck. It would break his heart. Fuck._

By the end of the night, Jinyoung was ready to go home and sulk in self-pity and remorse when Yugyeom towered over him.

“Hey, hyung!” he said, pulling him in for a hug.

“Yugyeom,” he whined. “Let me go.”

He didn’t relent. “Is that any way to talk to your favorite cousin?”

Jinyoung pushed his hands against his chest. “You’re suffocating me.”

“Fine,” he softened his grip. “I’m surprised you even stayed this long. You usually zoom out of these things as soon as your mom’s head is turned.”

“Yeah, well,” Jinyoung sighed. “I was just leaving now.”

“You can’t,” he whimpered, switching into English. “Mark and I were going to go out together.”

Jinyoung felt that stabbing pain of guilt resurface as Mark appeared next to them. He caught the brightness of his eyes again. Feeling temporarily sucked back in by it.

“Yeah. Come out with us, Jinyoung,” Mark smiled. 

Jinyoung tried to keep his expression from betraying him as he pulled his eyes away. “I’m pretty tired, Yugyeom,” he said. “It’s been a long day.”

“Please,” he begged. “My mom said you promised to show Mark around. Consider this an introduction to Seoul. We could go to karaoke. Get a few drinks.”

His stomach turned, remembering his promise to his aunt. Knowing there was no careful way to disentangle from the web he’d weaved himself into. His eyes met Mark’s again, speaking wordlessly of their shared secret. The trap Jinyoung had unknowingly walked into. He looked up into Yugyeom’s face, seeing the pleading look his cousin was giving him. He sighed. “Fine,” he said. “One drink and then I’m going home.”

“That’s the cousin I know,” Yugyeom hugged him again. “Come on. Let’s go.”

Yugyeom led them both down into the subway, taking them a few stops away towards Hongdae. And while he kept trying to create conversation, Jinyoung was stone cold. Barely talking.

When he would look over to Mark, the man’s eyes seemed to grow more and more curious. As if he was maybe wondering where that flirtatious lilt had gone and why Jinyoung had deadened so suddenly.

Before he knew it, Jinyoung was sitting in a basement karaoke room, three drinks in and feeling it. He’d tried to protest after the first drink and again after the second, but Yugyeom kept pushing him back down into the couch and refilling his glass. 

It was a lot easier to down them when he was looking up and watching Mark eagerly beating a tambourine to the beat of Yugyeom’s song choices. His smile so wide as he jumped around the room. Something about the ecstatic freedom in his smile making Jinyoung’s chest hurt a little more. And he knew he had to say something.

The song ended and Jinyoung spoke up. “Yugyeom,” he called. “We are out of beer.”

His cousin nodded, “I’ll go get more.”

“Here,” Jinyoung reached out his card, sliding it into Yugyeom’s hand. “On me.”

“Thanks, hyung. You’re the best.”

As soon as the door shut behind him, Mark was looking at him. His stare the same shade of dangerous as when it had been just them in the bathroom, just them at the reunion.

“We need to talk,” Jinyoung said, rapping his nails against his glass. 

“I agree,” Mark smirked, getting closer. He took the glass from his hand, putting it on the table.

Jinyoung felt that sudden tightness in his chest, sitting back into the couch. “What are you doing?”

Mark bit his lip, sliding himself into Jinyoung’s lap. His hands feeling over his chest. “This can’t be your shirt,” he shook his head. “It’s far too tight.”

“It’s the architect’s,” Jinyoung breathed, his eyes watching the way Mark was biting at his lips. Licking his own and tasting the alcohol on them. “I had to borrow it.”

Jinyoung’s eyes dragged down to Mark’s hands against his chest. The man was working the buttons of the dress shirt between his fingers. Both of them watching each button come apart like it was some magic trick they couldn’t look away from.

“Mark,” Jinyoung breathed. “What are you doing?” he repeated.

“It’s too tight,” Mark whimpered. “You’re too tight. You need to open up for me again.”

“Stop,” Jinyoung fought him back uselessly, feeling the lazy trickle of alcohol making everything feel slow.

“You don’t want me to stop,” Mark smirked as he kept going, revealing more and more of Jinyoung’s chest.

He panted, feeling the press of Mark in his lap. Trying to fight the urge to kick his hips up into him. “Don’t say things like that.”

“Why not?”

Jinyoung licked his lips, trying to steady his mind. “Cause your boyfriend’s outside.”

Mark smiled, wide and sinister. “And yet, I’m sitting in your lap,” he said. “What are you going to do about it?”

“Nothing,” Jinyoung said, firmly.

Mark chuckled, bringing his face close. “You didn’t do nothing about it earlier,” he whispered.

Jinyoung could smell the alcohol on his breath. And he knew it would taste better on his mouth but he restrained himself. “I didn’t know-” he gritted his teeth together. “I didn’t know who you were. Or that you were his boyfriend.”

“It didn’t matter,” Mark shook his head. “It still doesn’t.”

Jinyoung’s eyes fluttered shut, his breaths getting heavier as he could feel Mark’s mouth hovering over his. “You just do what you want, don’t you? Say what you want?” he whispered.

And though their mouths weren’t pressed together, Jinyoung could feel the smile pulling at Mark’s mouth. “There’s one thing about me that you should know,” he said. “I can’t help from speaking my mind.”

“Thank you, ahjumma!” Yugyeom’s voice rang down the hallway outside.

Jinyoung hurriedly pushed Mark over into the seat next to him, standing up as Yugyeom came in.

“Hey,” he panted, trying to hold the buttons of his shirt together with one hand. “I’m actually going to head out.”

“What?” Yugyeom pouted. “But we were having so much fun.”

“I know,” he sighed. “But I’m exhausted.”

“Okay,” Yugyeom said, obviously disappointed. He handed Jinyoung his card back. “By the way, I’m taking that film class you recommended with Won-saem this semester. You still have the textbooks, right?”

“Yeah, sure,” Jinyoung said, head dizzy and desperate to leave. “I’ll bring them to you next time I see you.”

“Sounds good,” he nodded. “I’ll give Mark your number. So you guys can meet up.”

Jinyoung looked back to Mark on the couch, catching sight of his stare. Feeling that spin in his head nearly tilt him off his axis. He sighed. “Fine,” he conceded. “I guess that’s fine.”

Mark smiled wide. “I’m looking forward to it, Jinyoung.”

\---

It was a couple days later when Jinyoung woke up in Jackson’s bed smelling like sweat. And Jinyoung couldn’t piece apart whether it was his or Jackson’s. He could barely remember that Jackson had already left to go lead his morning bootcamp class at the riverpark. All he could focus on was the ringing of his phone. Feeling around blindly for it before answering.

“Hello?”

“Good morning,” a voice sing-songed in crisp English.

Jinyoung sighed, placing Mark’s voice immediately on the other end. He put his hand over his face. “Morning,” he murmured, voice cracking from disuse.

“Oh. Rough morning, maybe?”

Jinyoung sat up a little more, looking out the window and trying to determine the time based on the sunlight cascading over Haebangchon. Rooftops and green leading up to Namsan Tower in the distance.

He sighed, “Aren’t they all rough?”

“Mmm,” Mark hummed, not answering. “I’ll come find you. Take you out for breakfast. I owe you one after those drinks at our karaoke date.”

Jinyoung scoffed, “It was not a date.”

“Sure felt like a date.”

“Does your boyfriend come on all your dates with you?”

Mark was quiet for a moment. And when he spoke, his voice was so warm and deep and quiet. Like they were words only meant for him to hear. “Jinyoung. Please,” he pleaded. “I can’t stop thinking about you.”

Jinyoung’s chest went wide, roaring like a fire coming to life. Before his mind seemed to try to smother the flames. Thinking instantly of his little baby cousin. How excited he’d been to have Jinyoung show Mark around. 

Jinyoung sighed, conflicted. “Mark,” he leaned back against the headboard. He looked over to the windows again. And the sun outside now felt blinding. Too bright. Unsafe. “You can’t say things like that.”

Mark was quiet for a moment and if Jinyoung swore he could hear his smile from across the phone, the warmth of his voice when he spoke only confirmed it. “Tell me where to be.”

Maybe Jinyoung could blame it on his sleepiness, still too fucked out from the night before as he looked down to his hips to see the bruises Jackson had left on him. Maybe he could blame it on a million other things. But all that really mattered was that he was weak. Weak enough to concede.

“Jamsil Station. Exit 3. In one hour.”

“I’ll see you there.”

\---

When Jinyoung came up the escalator, Mark was already standing there waiting for him. Same purple hair and lopsided hips and wide smile as when he’d last seen him.

“There he is,” Mark laughed, blocking the sun from his face with his hand. “I was half-convinced you were going to stand me up.”

Jinyoung took a deep breath, suppressing his face from mirroring the smile. “I was half-convinced I would too.”

“But you came,” Mark grabbed his hand, intertwining their fingers and starting to walk with him. “Where are we off to?”

Jinyoung felt the way his fingers too easily slotted between Mark’s. Remembering the sight of the man’s pretty knuckles drenched in cum. He pulled his hand away. “ _I’m_ hungry. _You’re_ tagging along because I made a promise to my aunt and my cousin.”

“Fine,” Mark rolled his eyes. “Good thing I’m hungry, too.”

Jinyoung walked down the street, feeling Mark at his side. His eyes raised to the storefronts, trying to find a cafe he frequented.

“What are you in the mood for?” Mark asked.

“A cold drink.”

“Are you hot?” he asked. “Everyone keeps telling me it’s not usually this hot in April.”

“It’s not,” Jinyoung said, trying to sound like he was barely paying attention to him.

“When did it start?”

Jinyoung found the cafe he was looking for. “I don’t know,” he shrugged, reaching for the door. “This past weekend.”

“So, when I showed up?” Mark’s brows jumped, slipping inside as if Jinyoung was holding the door for him.

Jinyoung bit at the inside of his cheek. “I guess.”

“Maybe I brought it with me. From California.”

“Not really how it works,” Jinyoung said flatly as he grabbed a tray. He slid it towards Mark. “Get what you want.”

Mark’s eyes brightened. “Are you paying?”

“I’ll be forwarding the bill to Yugyeom.”

“No, you won’t,” he said surely.

Jinyoung watched him sort through the different baskets of pastries with curious eyes. Picking them up and turning them over in his hands to study the packaging.

“What’s in this one?” he asked, holding up some kind of bun.

Jinyoung glanced over at it. “Cream.”

“How is it?”

“I don’t know. I don’t eat this stuff.”

Mark’s shoulders fell. “Then, what are you getting?”

“Coffee.”

“No fun,” Mark scoffed, putting it onto the tray and continuing.

By the time they reached the register, Mark had piled the tray with more pastries than Jinyoung could count and he was about to make fun of him but he knew he’d probably have a quicker comeback waiting for him. So he just ordered himself a coffee and paid, watching as the staff bagged all the treats.

Mark leaned in too close, “Where are we going to eat these?”

Jinyoung took a step away from him. “I will find a bench where you can eat them,” he said. “And I expect you to eat all of them since you made me buy them.”

“I thought Yugyeom bought them.”

Jinyoung didn’t respond, handing Mark the bag and leading him back out. They walked in silence until he found a bench overlooking the lake, the cherry blossoms trees on either side offering some shade. He sat down, leaving a considerable amount of space between them as he started sipping his coffee. Relieved that he had something to occupy his hands.

“You were wrong about this one,” Mark said with his mouth full. “It’s not filled with cream.”

Jinyoung looked over at the bun he was holding, eyebrows furrowing together. “Yes, it is.”

Mark pointed one end of it in Jinyoung’s face. “Take a bite and see.”

Jinyoung glared up at him, watching his eyes look back with that same insistence he’d seen from the start. And it still managed to elicit something in him that made that warm front feel a little warmer. He sighed, leaning in and taking a bite. Watching the way Mark’s smile grew across his face. He looked into the bun, seeing the white cream spill out. “Hey,” his eyebrows folded together as he chewed through the doughiness. “I was right.”

“I know,” Mark shrugged. “I just wanted to prove that you’d take a bite if I told you to.”

“You’re so irritating,” Jinyoung said, taking a sip of his coffee to wash down the sweetness with bitterness.

“You don’t really think that.”

“And what if I do?”

“You don’t,” Mark shrugged. “You just hate how much you want me.”

Jinyoung glared at him. “No. I hate that you didn’t tell me that you’ve been dating my cousin for the past year and now I’m having to lie to him _and_ my aunt so that I don’t get uninvited from future family reunions.”

“Please,” Mark scoffed. “As if you even enjoyed going to them before I showed up in that elevator.”

Jinyoung fell silent, not willing to confirm or deny it. “If we’re going to talk, I’d prefer it wasn’t about that.”

“Fine,” Mark said, taking another bite of his pastry. 

Jinyoung watched as the cream oozed onto his lips. He restrained the urge to clear it away with his thumb, gripping his coffee so hard, the plastic bent and cracked.

“So,” he started, tongue peeking out to slowly lick it away. 

Jinyoung ached.

“When you go out and you meet these guys in HBZ-”

“HBC.”

“Whatever,” he swallowed. “What’s your pick up line?”

Jinyoung took another sip of his coffee. Weighing if he even wanted to tell him the truth. But remembering what Mark had said. About how there was no point hiding, they’d already gotten each other off. Which hadn’t exactly been true since Mark had been hiding a glaring secret of his own, but, nevertheless, Jinyoung didn’t want to follow in those footsteps. “I pretend I know how to read palms,” he finally said.

“What?” Mark’s brows drew together in confusion.

Jinyoung sighed, putting his drink down on the bench. “Let me show you.” He twisted himself to face him, reaching for his hand and letting it fall open between his own. He let the tip of his finger trace the lines slowly, feeling the press of Mark’s eyes on him again.

“What do you see?” Mark asked, voice soft.

And when Jinyoung raised his head, Mark’s face was close to his own. The man’s gaze working down his face and resting somewhere on his mouth. Jinyoung smirked, leaning in a little closer. Speaking just loud enough for him to hear. “You’re a very selfish lover.”

Mark’s mouth pulled at one side. “You already know that’s not true.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Jinyoung shrugged, letting Mark’s hand fall back onto the bench and turning away. “It works every time.”

Mark went quiet for a moment. Not moving. “Not going to lie,” he huffed. “That would probably work on me.”

“Anything would work on you.”

“If it was coming from you? Probably,” Mark admitted. “Okay, while we’re on the topic, whose bed did you wake up in today?”

Jinyoung looked over at him, “Why do you assume it wasn’t my own?”

“I’ve smelled it on you since you came up that escalator,” he said. “And trust me, it smelled a lot better when it was with me.”

Jinyoung decided to ignore that comment. He looked back towards the lake, taking another sip. “The personal trainer,” he bit out.

“Ah,” Mark nodded. “That’s why you’re walking with a limp.”

“I am no-,” Jinyoung stopped. Realizing he’d had a nagging pain in his hamstring since he woke up.

“What is he like?” Mark asked, leaning his elbow on the back of the bench.

Jinyoung looked over, eyebrows quirking up. “You really want to know?”

Mark shrugged.

Jinyoung sighed. “Well,” he looked back towards the lake. “He’s rough. As handsy as they come. He never stops commenting on how much he likes my ass. I have to remind him to use Korean like every five minutes. And then when he’s spent, he asks if I want a protein shake. Which is kind of nice actually.”

“Sounds dreamy,” Mark said sarcastically. “Though I don’t blame him for loving your ass. It’s probably why your lame palm reading trick works.”

Jinyoung held a finger up, “All that matters is that it works.”

“And yet, you didn’t even need to use it on me.”

Jinyoung looked over, seeing Mark’s dark eyes sparkling back. Remembering how strong the pull of them had been from the very start. Even now, they were powerful enough to make him question, for the briefest of moments, whether maintaining the space between them was even worth it. And in that flash of a moment, he pictured himself grabbing him by that purple hair on the nape of his neck and pulling him. Pictured the way his mouth would still taste sweet from the cream, mixing with the bitterness of his own coffee. And something about it made him stir. Not in his lap, where he was most used to it, but in his chest. And that persistent ache Mark kept ilicting didn’t feel routine.

“Okay,” he breathed, turning away and closing his eyes. Quelling the thought he’d been having. “I want to sit in silence now.”

Mark sighed, disappointed. “Aren’t you supposed to be showing me the city?”

“There it is,” he motioned to the view in front of them. “And I’ve expertly timed it so that I have...” he looked at his watch. “Five more minutes before I have to go teach a class.”

Mark rolled his eyes, “Would you _please_ stop acting like I’m not giving you exactly what you’re begging for.”

Jinyoung looked over, face twisting up. “And what’s that?”

Mark’s eyes brightened. “To be wanted,” he shook his head. “You’re so desperate for it.”

Jinyoung felt a trail of heat blaze across his shoulders, rolling them and sitting up straighter to try and dispel it. “Is that your theory then?” he asked, raising his eyebrows. “For why I sleep with these guys?”

“It’s not theory, it’s fact,” Mark said simply. “And it’s exactly why I know you’re going to give into me. Because I want you more than they do.” 

That persistent trail ran back the way it came. He shook his head. “I’m not giving you anything.”

Mark laughed, bright and loud like he wasn’t even listening. “I’m going to have fun with this,” he said, eyes twinkling. “Pushing you off this last inch of moral high ground and watching you fall for me.”

Jinyoung’s shoulders went tense, hot, and it traveled in a straight line up his spine, making him clench his jaw too hard and bite his tongue. But he didn’t dare show the pain on his face as he stared Mark down. “You’re outrageous.”

“Oh, are we exchanging compliments?” Mark leaned over, putting his hand to Jinyoung’s thigh. “Hmm, lemme think,” he tilted his head, licking at a sharp canine of his. “Your voice when you were waking up was really husky and sexy. Especially when your first thought of the day was me.”

Jinyoung stared at him. Stomach knotting up inside of him. Feeling Mark’s hand drift the slightest touch higher. He grabbed it. At first not sure if he wanted to drag it into his lap or intertwine their fingers or cast it away. He settled on the last option. “I’m going to go to class,” he said, reaching for his coffee and his bag.

“When’s our next date?”

“There won’t be one, Mark. These aren’t dates.”

“Fine. Then, I’ll just call you.”

“Don’t call me.”

“Why?” he looked up at him. “You know you’ll answer.”

Jinyoung stared down at him. Feeling the sting of his tongue from where he bit it. “You really think I’m going to fall for you.”

Jinyoung watched Mark's smile spread across his face, catching all that morning light. Reflecting all that timeless beauty back so brightly that he didn’t have the will to look away this time.

“I think you already have,” he said. “And denying it’s just exhausting you. So do us both a favor and drop the act.”

His face twisted up, “What act?”

Mark huffed. “Stop trying to act like you hate me,” he shook his head. “You’re not very convincing.”

He took a deep breath, feeling how the hostility he’d been holding too closely was wearing thin. Letting it fall away at Mark’s command. “Fine,” he said, fidgeting with his bag on his shoulder. “Anything else?”

“Answer when I call you,” he said firmly.

Jinyoung stared at him, unable to hide how entranced he was. “You know I will.”

Mark smiled again, something unspoken and knowing. “In the meantime,” he jumped to his feet, leaning up to kiss Jinyoung’s cheek. “Stop showing up in my dreams, would you?”

Jinyoung felt the warm press of his lips. He sighed, wearing that tender spot on his tongue against his teeth. “I’ll try.”

\---

It was the next night, somewhere on the walk between the club and Jaebeom and Bambam’s loft. The same walk it always was. 3am. A steep enough incline on the street to get Jinyoung’s heart racing preemptively. A warm up for what was to come. He’d walked the way so many times that even as he staggered drunk in the couple’s shadows, he could close his eyes. Let his feet remember the path. So he did and behind his eyes it was blacker than a scrying mirror. And that image of Mark surfaced too easily. Stirred up too much alongside the race of his heart.

And Jinyoung already knew where his feet were carrying him. He knew what was going to happen there. He knew that persistent hunger of his would be sated soon. That relentless need to be wanted that Mark had so easily called him out on. Even if it was just that Jaebeom and Bambam wanted him to be conduit for their love for each other. Some way to amplify what was already there between them. Even if it was that, it was something. For a short time.

But there was another hunger lingering as he watched Mark’s image imprinted behind his eyes, as he heard Mark’s laugh in his ears, harmonizing with the ringing of Jaebeom’s set. And _that_ hunger he couldn’t explain. It was that hunger that had him pulling out his phone and typing out the message as he stumbled in the long lines of the couple’s shadow.

_You up?_

Jinyoung barely had to wait a full sixty seconds before his phone was vibrating in his hand.

_I am._

And even the sight of his words made something in Jinyoung’s chest stir.

_Why?_

_Jetlag. You?_

_I’m out._

_Let me come find you._

And if Mark had been standing right in front of him, maybe it would have been easier to just give in, but instead he just looked up, seeing the couple’s shoulders brushing as they intertwined their fingers together. And for maybe the first time, Jinyoung felt a little empty watching it. He sighed, typing again.

_No._

_Why not?_

_Busy._

_Then why are you texting me?_

Jinyoung looked up towards the annoying buzz of a yellowed streetlight, watching the crowd of moths it gathered uselessly bash themselves against the brightness. Knowing the feeling.

_I don’t know._

“You’re walking so slow,” Jaebeom called over his shoulder. “Come on.”

Jinyoung pocketed his phone hustling up the incline of the road to join the couple.

When they got to their loft, they kept the lights low. They took out a bottle of wine like they weren’t already drunk. Talking and laughing and catching up. This was the routine. This was all part of the warm-up before the inevitable. And Jinyoung was already feeling looser when his phone rang on the countertop. And it rang and it rang and Jinyoung couldn’t stop staring at Mark’s name across the screen.

Jaebeom scoffed. “Are you just going to stare or are you going to answer that?”

Jinyoung watched it, brows furrowing. “I don’t know.”

“Go out on the balcony, hyung,” Bambam beckoned. “We’ll be here.”

So Jinyoung did, dragging himself out on the balcony and shutting the door behind him before he swiped open the phone.

“Hello?”

“Hey,” Mark’s voice crackled through the receiver. “What are you up to?”

Jinyoung swallowed, leaning himself against the banister. “I’m at a friend’s place.”

“Which friend?”

“Well. Friends.”

“Ah. The club couple,” Mark said, a smug smile in his voice.

“Mhmm,” Jinyoung said, twisting his hands against the railing. Always needing something to do with his hands just to distract himself, restrain himself.

Mark’s voice went soft in his ear. “You’re drunk.”

Jinyoung took a deep breath. “I mean. I had a few drinks at the club perhaps.”

“I bet you’re cute when you’re drunk,” Mark murmured. “I bet your eyes get all bleary. And you smile more. You should smile more, Jinyoung.”

“I need a reason to smile more.”

“And here I am,” Mark chuckled. “Bringing Seoul its warm front, huh?”

“So modest.”

“Tell me,” Mark said. “What are they like? The club couple.”

Jinyoung felt the upward tug of his lips. He looked over his shoulder. Seeing the couple sharing a kiss across the table, wide smiles on their faces when they pulled away. Bambam’s hands working up Jaebeom’s thighs. “Total opposites who are deathly weak for each other. It’s kind of sickening.” 

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Jinyoung leaned back against the banister, watching as Jaebeom flushed from more than just the wine. “The DJ is quiet. And the more he drinks, the harder he smiles until you can’t see his eyes. He looks at his boyfriend like the sun shines out his ass. Looks at me like he might kill me if I misstep.”

“And the other one?”

Jinyoung’s eyes shifted over to Bam, mouth moving beautifully as he whispered something in his boyfriend’s ear. “He’ll be charming and kind. Acts like we are old friends who are catching up every time he talks to me. But he’s not really listening. He’s plotting exactly where he wants to put his hands on me first.”

“Mmm,” Mark hummed. “I know the feeling.”

Jinyoung huffed, “Shut up.”

“Though that’s not all I think about,” Mark whispered. 

Jinyoung smiled, turning around and looking across the rooftops of Haebangchon. The twinkling porch lights. Thinking of Mark’s eyes. “Indulge me then,” he sighed, fingers dragging across the metal. “What do you think about?”

“I think about the way you’d look in the morning after we spend the night together. After you open your eyes and you look at me lying next to you and I become _every thought_ consuming you.”

And Jinyoung, in his drunkenness, closed his eyes and pictured it too. Pictured the white of morning like a blank canvas that would let Mark shine. And Jinyoung, like those moths, just hopelessly drawn to his brightness, unable to look away from him. And the night felt warmer just thinking about it, letting himself have this moment of wanting without restraining it.

Mark kept going. “And when your body is still weak with sleep and the night before, you look at me like you are trying to decide if you’ve fallen in love with me. But before you do, I roll on top of you, kissing a straight line down your body and sinking between your legs to give you the best head of your life.”

Jinyoung’s insides twisted up. He gripped the bannister even harder. “You’re the fucking worst, Mark,” he breathed.

The smug smile was back in Mark’s voice. “I miss you, too.”

“You don’t even know me.”

“Then let me,” Mark pushed. “Maybe I could be the first one who doesn’t just know the you that you’re so desperately trying to get everyone to love.”

“I don’t know if you’d like him.”

Mark giggled, soft in his ear. “I think I already do.”

And Jinyoung went silent, biting at the smile against his lips.

“What’s your bet then?” Mark said, breaking the silence. “Where will the bartender put his hands first?”

Jinyoung sighed, “Judging by how the night is going? Probably fisted in my hair. Forcing me on my knees so he can shoot a load in my mouth and make his boyfriend kiss it out.”

“What about the DJ? Will you misstep tonight?”

“No,” Jinyoung shook his head. “I’ll probably fuck him and make his boyfriend watch. And that will make everyone happy.”

“You’ll tell me if you’re right? Next time, I see you?” Mark asked, like it was a tender secret just between them.

Jinyoung felt the lingering press of Mark’s kiss on his cheek, knowing he hadn’t relished it the way he should have the other day. “I’ll tell you.”

“You won’t forget this conversation, will you? Even if you’re drunk?”

“No,” Jinyoung admitted. “I doubt I’ll forget.”

Mark paused for a moment. “And what about me?”

Jinyoung took a deep breath, feeling that warm front in his lungs. “No,” he repeated. “I doubt I’ll forget.”

Mark’s smile was almost audible again, even in the silence that stretched out. Even in the small intake of breath before he spoke. “Well, hopefully I can see you soon. But until then, this will have to do.”

“What will have to do?”

“Knowing that I was your drunk text,” he laughed. “That’s something.”

Jinyoung smirked. Unable to deny it. “Tell my cousin I said hi.”

“Will do.”

\---

The next day, Jinyoung was nearing the end of a class when he got a message.

_There’s a driver parked outside. I want you in my bed, showered and undressed, by the time I arrive home._

It wasn’t the first time Youngjae had sent a text like that so Jinyoung had no qualms about dismissing class early and packing up his things. He headed outside to see the black car waiting for him. “What’s up, Mr. Kang?” he said, high fiving the driver.

He did as Youngjae said when he arrived at his penthouse, taking the chance to try out those fancy soaps he kept in his shower. And after, he was lying in the architect's bed, waiting and scrolling through his phone when it began to ring.

He stared at Mark’s name across the screen, looking up and making sure he couldn’t hear the sound of Youngjae coming in. He swiped it open. “Hey,” he smiled.

“You answered,” Mark said from the other side. “Are you drunk again?”

“No. I’m not,” Jinyoung admitted. “I wish I was.”

“Why’s that?”

“Well,” he sighed. “I’m currently lying in the architect’s bed waiting for him to come home and fuck me. And I can already tell he must be in some horrific mood, because he sent a car to pick me up from work. The last time he did that, it was because his contractors had cracked the foundation of a forty floor condominium tower.”

“Hopefully not the one you’re in,” Mark teased. “So, you’re lying in his bed,” he paused. “Wait. Are you naked?”

Jinyoung felt the slow stretch of a smile across his face. He looked down at himself. The covers twisted up around his middle, his bare legs extended out the other side. “Yeah,” he smirked. “I am.”

“Mmm okay,” Mark hummed. “I’m closing my eyes. I’m picturing it.”

“Stop,” Jinyoung laughed.

“As if you didn’t want me to.” 

“Just imagine I smell like soaps you can only get at department stores.”

Mark giggled, “It's a shame you’re going to let him come home and deflower you. Take away your precious innocence.”

“Please,” Jinyoung rolled his eyes. “I’m not sure there was any to start with.”

There was a long pause, only the sound of a slight crackle through the phone. The sound of Mark taking a deep breath. “I wish I was there,” he whispered out. “I wish it was me.”

Jinyoung went quiet. Fingers toying with the duvet. Not knowing what to say.

Mark’s voice went even softer. “I think you wish it was me, too.”

Jinyoung felt the nerves at his neck and shoulders rush under the surface. Clenching his hand into the covers tighter. Intaking a breath that felt slower, harder. Like the weight of Mark’s words were bearing heavy on his chest. His mouth fell open, hesitating around the question before it fell just as soft. “What would you do?”

Mark drew in a breath. “I’d lock the door so that architect couldn’t get to you. So that I’d be the only one to have you,” he nearly hissed. “And I’d crawl up into the bed, leaning over you. I can picture the way you’d look up at me. Licking your lips. Getting them all shiny. Like you’re hungry for it.”

Jinyoung’s eyes fluttered shut and, just like on the balcony, he pictured it too. Except he wasn’t drunk this time. There was no hazy soft morning glow around Mark’s image. No, all the details were sharp and crisp. From the purple of his hair to the dangerous glint of his canines. And the thought of it had his whole body going warmer.

Mark didn’t stop, “I’d pull that cover away and just look down at you. And you wouldn’t even feel shy. I know you wouldn’t.”

The heat didn’t let up. So much so that Jinyoung had to pull that cover away. But even when he did, he barely felt that chill of the room through his sudden feverishness. 

Mark huffed, voice full of awe, “You look so beautiful, Jinyoung. So beautiful like this.”

Jinyoung’s smirk pulled at one side, “Really?”

“Really,” he said, surely. Taking a deep breath before continuing, “I haven’t even touched you yet, but when I finally do, I’d let one finger trace up your throat, under your chin. And you’d arch with my touch, cause you’ve been wanting this, haven’t you? Not letting yourself give in?” his voice cutting through with a razor sharp edge. “God, I can imagine how much you’re wanting it now.”

Jinyoung took a gasping breath, feeling the way his body reacted. Tightening up, arching just like Mark was saying. Tilting his chin up toward the ceiling.

“And when you’ve arched as much as you can, practically lifting off that bed for me, only then will I let my lips meet yours,” he said. “And it won’t be like the last time. It won’t be so rushed. Won’t just be fueled by that compulsion of yours to be wanted, Jinyoung. But instead by something else.”

“Like what?” Jinyoung asked.

“I’ll tell you later,” Mark said, voice so warm. “I promise, I’ll tell you later. But all that’s important now is that because of it, everything will be slow. From the way I kiss you to the way my hand combs down your body, wrapping itself around your cock.”

Jinyoung’s breath went sharp. And as Mark spoke, he could feel the ghost of his warm hand drawing a slow straight line down the middle of his chest. And from his touch, Jinyoung felt his skin bloom pink. Traveling further and further south until he could feel that overwhelming tightness bloom between his legs. His cock laying heavier against the hot skin of his abdomen.

“You’re hard, aren’t you, Jinyoung?”

Jinyoung nodded, “Yes.”

“Good,” he said. “Then, I’d start to stroke you. Just as slow as I kiss you. Just as slow as I let my lips trail down your neck.” He inhaled. “God, you were right. You smell so good, Jinyoung,” he sighed. “But you’re going to smell even better when I’m done with you.”

Jinyoung whimpered. His hand twisting up in the sheets.

Mark laughed, low and dark in his ear, “What if I hung up right now, Jinyoung? What would you do?”

Jinyoung’s body screamed in protest. “You wouldn’t.”

“Of course, I wouldn’t,” he said. “I can practically hear it in your voice. You want to touch yourself, don’t you?”

He felt the twitch of his cock against his skin, begging. “Yes.”

“I’m not some monster architect. I’m not going to tell you that you can’t.”

The last remaining bit of sensibility scratched at his mind. “But,” it spoke, resisting. “Yugyeom.”

“Are you really thinking about your cousin right now?” Mark huffed, amused. “Come on, Jinyoung,” he whispered. “I made you feel good in that bathroom, didn’t I? With my hand around you?”

Jinyoung remembered the tight twist of his hand, his handsome face overwhelmingly close. “Mhmm,” he nodded.

“Then, let me do it again. Please, Jinyoung,” he pleaded. “I’m not too proud to beg.”

Jinyoung’s hand unclenched the duvet, brushing over his hip. Feeling the shiver travel up his back in response. His fingers splaying against his skin until he wrapped them around his cock. Letting out some breath he hadn’t even known he was holding when the warm on warm was so much better than he anticipated.

“You’re doing it, aren’t you?” Mark asked, smile in his voice. “Should I ask you to turn on your camera?”

Jinyoung huffed. “Just keep talking,” he murmured.

“Fine,” Mark laughed. “I’m kissing your neck. I’m stroking you so slow. You’re so hard for me. You feel so good in my hand.”

And Jinyoung felt those slow strokes, each one making his chest weaken a little more.

“Look down, Jinyoung,” Mark hummed. “Are you leaking precum for me?”

He opened his eyes, watching his cock slipping through his hand. The clear, tacky droplets shining against his stomach like morning dew. He licked his lips, “Mhmm.”

“Your precum tastes so good, Jinyoung,” he whimpered. “Would you try it for me? Bring it up to those perfect lips of yours?”

So Jinyoung did, drawing his hand up to his mouth. The aroma filling his senses and flooding him with even more heat. He dragged those fingers across his lips, his tongue, savoring it the way Mark had.

“Fuck, I can hear you licking it off,” he hissed. “I bet you look so good right now. I bet if I was there I wouldn’t be able to stand it. I’d have to help you. Lick it off your fingers, off your mouth.”

“Mark,” Jinyoung begged around the fingers in his mouth. “Please, let me...” words trailed off, too embarrassed to ask.

“You want to touch yourself again? Then, do it,” he said. “You don’t need my permission, remember?”

Jinyoung let his hand encircle his cock again. His eyes screwing shut, shuddering at the much needed touch.

“The hand on your cock is even slicker now from where we’ve licked it. It must feel even better now.”

“Mhmm,” he nodded.

“Good,” Mark said. “I stroke you more, a little firmer now.” 

And in response, Jinyoung’s hand went firmer around himself. His body aching with want.

“That’s it,” Mark eased. “And if you looked down, to watch yourself slip through my fist, you’d notice the way I’m looking up at you. Watching your face. Eyes so wide.”

Jinyoung imagined it. Mark’s handsome face, his sparkling eyes. Even more dark, even more insistent. “What is it?” he whispered.

“I just,” Mark’s voice went timid. “You look so beautiful like this. And I don’t want to stop, but,” he hesitated. “But, I want to ride you bad. So fucking bad.”

Jinyoung trembled, hand clenching around himself when his dick jumped. “Then, climb on top,” he smiled.

“No, no. It’s fine,” he protested. “You’re not okay with that. You’re only okay with my hands on you.”

“Mark,” Jinyoung growled. “Let me fuck you. I want to fuck you.”

The man paused. “Can you hear how hard I’m smiling, Jinyoung?” he asked. “I’m smiling like this when I pull my shirt off. There’s some tattoos you haven’t seen there.”

Jinyoung pictured it. Imagining the black ink against Mark’s slim torso, the one he was always hiding beneath his oversized clothes. “I want to see them.”

“I know you do,” Mark murmured. “And then I’m rushing to take off my pants. Nearly tripping over myself. Cause I need you. I really need you, Jinyoung. I’ve needed you since I saw those photos of you. You’re so much better in person. So much better like this. All pretty and stretched below me.”

“Mark,” he laughed. “Hurry up and take off your pants.”

“Sorry,” Mark panted. “I’m crawling back over you. I sit down in your lap. Can you feel that, Jinyoung? Feel how slick I am?”

Jinyoung felt the slickness of his hand around his cock. “Yes,” he whined.

“I couldn’t help myself,” Mark said, shy. “On the way here, I fingered myself. With lube I brought all the way from America just to use on you. I just wanted to be so open for you. So you could sink right into me. Are you mad?”

Jinyoung’s hand involuntarily tightened, just to slow himself down. Feeling the thought excite him too much. “I’m not mad,” he shook his head. “I’m just mad I couldn’t watch.”

“Next time. There’s always next time,” he said. “I’m so frustrated. Because I want to tease you more, but I can’t. I need you. Can I just have you, Jinyoung?”

“Mark,” he said, voice firm.

“I don’t know,” he inhaled through his teeth. “Are you sure you really want it?”

“Please, Mark,” he breathed, losing that firmness.

“Then I’ll do it,” Mark said. “I’ll let myself sink down onto you.” He moaned, obscene in Jinyoung’s ear. “Can you feel me? How hot and loose I am for you?”

Jinyoung’s hips kicked up into his fist. “Yes,” he panted.

“How’s it feel?”

“So good, Mark,” he groaned, working himself. “So fucking good.”

“I start trying to ride you. And fuck,” he gasped. “You feel amazing. Just like I knew you would. And once I start, I can’t stop. Cause it’s perfect. You’re so fucking perfect.”

Jinyoung couldn’t help but pick up the rhythm of his hand, moaning into it. Nothing feeling real except the tight throb of his cock and the deep sound of Mark’s voice in his ear.

“But it doesn’t even matter what I say about you,” he said. “Because remember when I told you that this isn’t about you needing to feel wanted? Remember that, Jinyoung?”

“Mmhm,” Jinyoung nodded, biting down on his lip.

“That’s because it’s not,” he said. “When you’re doing this, you don’t even care about being wanted or loved. Any praise I have for you doesn’t even register. Because all you care about is that it’s me.”

And Jinyoung felt it, Mark’s weight bearing on him. The way it mattered that it was Mark. The way it couldn’t have been anyone else.

“You like me, Jinyoung. And you’re finally letting yourself admit it.”

He saw Mark’s beaming smile, his bare dewy chest, his hard, bouncing cock behind his eyelids. He moaned, body twisting up in response. His hand moving fluidly, furiously over himself.

“Are you admitting it?” Mark breathed, exasperated. “Do you like me?”

“Yes,” he moaned.

“That must feel so good. After holding it in for so long. Doesn’t it feel good?”

He threw his head back against the sheets, “So good.”

“Then don’t hold it in anymore,” Mark panted. “Just fucking let it go. Tell me.”

Jinyoung’s toes curled, shuddering and thrusting his hips up into his hand as he spilled across himself. “Fuck, I like you, Mark,” he gasped. “I really fucking like you.” And his body willingly gave in to the insurmountable high, pushing him past his limit.

Mark’s breaths were coming out short, heavy on the other line, “What do you like about me?”

Jinyoung’s jaw clenched, gritting out the words, “Your stupid, cheeky comebacks and your goofy smile when you’ve proven me wrong and the way I have to busy my hands when I’m with you cause I’m afraid I’ll do something stupid and God,” he groaned. “I fucking hate it. I hate how much I like you.”

Mark moaned, deep and rough and breathy. And he kept moaning and moaning and Jinyoung just listened, imagining him losing himself. Imagining the way he’d look with his cum spread across his stomach. Across the ink he hadn’t seen yet, but oh, how he wanted to in this moment.

He could hear Mark breathing on the other end, quick and spent. But something about it had Jinyoung imagining the wide smile across his face. “I bet you look so beautiful right now,” he breathed.

Jinyoung looked down at himself, feeling the sweat on his neck and his chest. Seeing the way it mixed with the cum that was pooling against his skin. “I look messy,” he smiled.

“Then I know you look beautiful.”

Jinyoung felt the flutter of nerves in his stomach. “Mark,” he whispered, eyes drifting up towards the ceiling. “We shouldn’t have done that. We shouldn’t have said those things.”

“Don’t take it back,” he said. “Promise me you won’t take it back.”

Jinyoung lay there, feeling pulled in two. His ears pricked. He looked toward the door, hearing the unmistakable sound of Youngjae coming in.

“Fuck,” he cursed under his breath. “Mark. I have to go.”

“No, wait. You can’t,” Mark rushed to say. “I’m leaving the day after tomorrow.”

Jinyoung felt a sharp pain in his chest, remembering that his time was running out. He fisted his hand in his damp hair, hearing Youngjae’s footsteps approaching. “Then, I’ll see you tomorrow,” he breathed. “Noksapyeong Overpass. 2pm. Don’t be late.”

“Wait, I-”

Jinyoung ended the call, tossing the phone into the sheets and pulling the duvet over himself just as the door of the bedroom opened.

Youngjae was standing in the threshold, hands loosening the tie around his neck. A sharpened look in his eyes. “Are you going to welcome me home?” he asked, voice callous.

Jinyoung swallowed. “Welcome,” he said. “You had a rough day?”

Youngjae sighed, coming forward. Fingers working at the buttons near his collar. “The fucking investors for the art museum I was designing went bankrupt.”

Jinyoung leaned up on his forearms, looking up at him. “Sounds shitty.”

“Incredibly shitty,” Youngjae nodded. “That project was supposed to win me a Pritzker.” He sat down on the edge of the bed, looking out the window towards the river for a long moment. “Fuck it,” he shook his head, turning towards Jinyoung. “At least I have you looking absolutely delectable in my bed.” He ran his hands up Jinyoung’s calves, his thighs, past the cover of the duvet.

Jinyoung scooched further away from him. “About that-”

Youngjae stopped, narrowing his eyes. “What’s wrong?”

“I…” Jinyoung licked his lips. “I got impatient.”

Youngjae furrowed his brows. He reached up, slowly peeling the duvet away. Looking down at the mess Jinyoung made across himself. His face fell, staring blankly.

“Maybe I could-” 

Youngjae sighed. “Just get out,” he breathed, standing up from the bed.

“No, wait,” Jinyoung sat up. “I-”

“No,” Youngjae stopped him, not even looking back. “You’re fucking useless to me now. Just leave.”

Jinyoung felt the words cut deep, wounding him for a moment before festering into anger. His blood starting to boil. “Fuck you,” he called out.

Youngjae looked back at him, eyes wide. “Excuse me?”

“You heard me,” Jinyoung sneered, narrowing his eyes. “You think you’re so fucking cool cause you’re some rich architect with a swanky penthouse?”

The man stared back at him, baffled. “Yeah, I do actually.”

Something in Jinyoung sank before the anger bit back again. “Well, obviously you’re not since you still have to pick my lame ass up from work every time you need to fuck something to feel.”

Youngjae blinked. “So, you’re saying that the lamest thing about me is you?”

Jinyoung groaned, getting up from the bed. “I’m leaving,” he bit out, scooping up his clothes. “And I’m taking that fancy soap in your bathroom with me.”

Youngjae’s face twisted up. “This isn’t the Oscars,” he called. “You don’t get a goody bag every time you cum in my penthouse.”

“Well good thing I’m not cumming in your penthouse anymore,” Jinyoung shouted. He started to make his way to the bathroom, glancing over his shoulder, “And your headboard is still stupid.”

\---

Noksapyeong Station was located at the bottom of the HBC hill and the overpass just outside it extended over a multi-lane road, providing the best view of Namsan Tower that the city had to offer.

By the time Jinyoung was walking up the staircase, Mark was already waiting for him braced against the railing looking out over the view. And Jinyoung knew that he shouldn’t have been looking forward to it all day, but nevertheless, merely the sight of Mark’s face felt like something he’d gone too many days without. Deepening that feeling in his chest in a way that felt nearly pleasant.

Mark looked over at him, mouth pulling at the corners into that genuine, bright smile of his.

Jinyoung held out his arms. “Welcome to HBC,” he smirked.

Mark looked around, “This is it?”

“This is it,” Jinyoung nodded, coming closer and leaning against the railing with him.

Mark looked at him, “How much time until your next class?”

“No classes,” Jinyoung shook his head. “I’m free for the rest of the day.”

Mark's smile grew. “Okay,” he nodded. “Where are you taking me then?”

Jinyoung smirked. “Follow me.”

They started walking up the hill, passing by restaurants and convenience stores and making way for passing cars. Jinyoung kept his hands in his pockets, not able to trust that he could keep them to himself.

“How were your dates?”

Jinyoung shook his head, “I wouldn’t call them dates.”

“Not like this, right?” Mark teased.

Jinyoung’s eyes went to the road, trying to quell his smile by kicking a rock. “They were fine, I guess.”

“The club couple?”

“Still sickeningly in love,” Jinyoung sighed. “I was right, by the way. About how it would go down.”

“Of course, you were,” Mark huffed. “And the architect?”

Jinyoung felt the uneasy twist of his stomach, remembering. “Well,” he swallowed. “It was short.”

Mark laughed, “I mean, yeah. You must have been spent after I was finished with you.”

Jinyoung felt a small bolt of heat radiate down his spine. “It wasn’t that,” he shook his head. “He told me to get out. So, I told him to fuck off and stormed out.”

Mark’s brows drew together. “What? Why did he do that?”

Jinyoung’s mouth went tight. “He wasn’t happy that I finished before he got there.”

Mark looked at him, something a little sad in his eyes. “I’m sorry, Jinyoung,” he said, earnestly.

“Don’t worry about it,” Jinyoung waved him away. “He was a dick. It’s probably better that it’s over.”

Jinyoung pretended not to see the small, shy smile on Mark’s face as they walked the rest of the way in silence. Until Jinyoung was leading him to a cafe off the side of the road.

“What is this place?” Mark said, ducking inside.

“Bingsu,” Jinyoung said. “Have you had it yet?”

Mark shook his head, “I haven’t.”

Jinyoung pointed to the menu of colorful bowls piled high with different flavors and toppings. “What looks good?”

Mark stepped closer to him, leaning into his shoulder and pointing up at the menu. “Oh, that one.”

Jinyoung could feel the warm press of his body, the closeness of his face. Knowing that if he turned his head, Mark’s mouth would be no more than a few inches away. He crossed his arms over his chest, letting his eyes follow Mark’s finger up to an eye-catching mango bingsu.

“Sit down,” he told him. “I’ll order.”

When their order was ready, Jinyoung brought the tray over to the table Mark had chosen in the corner, sliding it in front of him. “Dig in.”

Mark grabbed a spoon, looking up at him. “You’re not going to help me?”

Jinyoung sat down across from him, seeing the sincerity of his dark eyes. He sighed, picking up a spoon.

Mark smiled, starting to scoop up a piece of mango.

“Wait,” Jinyoung stopped him. “You need to add the condensed milk first.” He grabbed the small carafe at the side, drizzling it over.

Mark let his spoon intersect the stream, bringing it to his lips and licking it off. 

Jinyoung tracked the languid movement of his tongue against his lips. Not even noticing when the condensed milk spilled over the side of the bowl. “Ah,” he hissed, putting the carafe down and rushing to catch the dribbles on the tips of his fingers. He brought them to his lips, passively sucking it off.

Mark reached for his wrist. “Let me,” he said, trying to pull towards him.

Jinyoung went still, not budging “Mark,” he warned.

“Jinyoung,” he smirked. “It’s my last day. Indulge me.”

He looked back at him, aching to feel his lips against his fingertips. Knowing it may be the last chance. He sighed. “Since it’s your last day, I’ll only indulge you once,” he said. “Are you sure you want it to be on this?”

Mark kept a firm hold on his wrist for a moment more before letting it fall. “Maybe later then,” he murmured.

Jinyoung smirked, sucking the rest off his fingers as Mark was watched.

Just then Jinyoung’s phone on the table started to vibrate. He looked down to it, seeing Jackson’s name across the screen. He rushed to suck the rest of the milk off before reaching for his phone and dismissing the call. He pocketed the phone in his jeans, looking up and seeing the curious furrow of Mark’s brows.

“Who was that?”

“No one,” Jinyoung shook his head.

“Jinyoung,” his shoulders dropped. “Tell me.”

He stared at him. Seeing the insistence in his gaze. “Personal trainer.”

Mark leaned his elbows onto the table, letting his spoon scoop up a bite of mango and ice. “You didn’t answer,” he noted, bringing it to his mouth and taking a bite.

Jinyoung looked down, spoon scooping his own bite up and putting it into his mouth. Maybe just to give himself another moment to answer. “Yeah. So?”

“Nothing,” Mark shrugged. “I just can’t relate. You always answer my calls.” 

Jinyoung stilled, looking down into the bingsu and moving the shaved ice around with his spoon, passively.

Mark took another bite, “Mmm, this is really good.”

“I’m glad you like it,” Jinyoung said, thoughts still somewhere else. On something that shouldn’t have felt so important but it did. He tried to shake it off. “Did you have a good trip?”

“Ask me tomorrow.”

Jinyoung looked up at him. “What if I don’t see you?”

Mark smirked around the spoon in his mouth. “You’ll see me if you want to see me.”

Jinyoung didn’t know what to say, so just kept spooning bites into his mouth. Feeling the cold ice numb down his feelings. And as they ate, they spoke, but both of them kept the topics considerably lighter. Talking about how Jinyoung got into teaching English and about Mark’s life back home. Telling the story of how he’d crossed paths with Yugyeom at a house party, trying to escape from a past fling that had been trying to corner him. And it was nice. Just laughing together, enjoying each other in a harmless way that put Jinyoung’s mind at ease for just long enough.

When they were about to leave, Jinyoung went to return the tray and came back. 

“Hey,” Mark said, looking up from his phone. “Yugyeom just texted me,” he said. “He asked if you could get him that textbook for his film class? He said he really needs it for tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” he said, before he stopped. Realizing what that meant. 

Mark must have seen it play out on his face. “What’s wrong?”

“It’s just-” he stopped again, sighing. “It’s back at my apartment.”

Mark got up from the table. “Let’s just pick it up. I’ll bring it back with me so he can have it for tomorrow.”

It left Jinyoung immediately unsettled again, as if his mind had been waiting for another red flag. Because part of him wanted to imagine Mark in that space but the reality bit back. Because it wouldn’t be the way he wanted him there. Under the circumstances he wanted him there. But he knew he didn’t have the strength to say no.

When they got outside, Mark reached over his hand, interlacing their fingers together.

Jinyoung immediately tried to pull away, but Mark wouldn’t let him. “Mark,” he groaned. “Stop.”

“It feels good, doesn’t it?” he asked, smiling.

And Jinyoung looked at him, feeling that easy slotting together that was just the same as it had been the last time they had met up. And yes, it felt good. Everything about Mark felt good. But that didn’t make it right.

Jinyoung sighed, looking back up the road. “Like I said, I’ll indulge you once today.”

And Mark held his hand for a moment longer before letting it fall.

Jinyoung put his hand back in his pocket, where it wouldn’t do anything irresponsible.

The streetlights were coming on as they walked themselves up the hill. Warm and buzzing and glinting off Mark’s features in the dusk light. The curve of his nose and his dark eyes and the pretty slope of his neck and the tinge of purple in his hair. 

“Why is your hair purple?” he asked, unable to hide his curiosity.

Mark looked over, smirking. “Ask Yugyeom.”

“Why?”

“I had a bet going with him when he was in Los Angeles. I told him if he won, he would have the power to choose my hair color at will.”

Jinyoung narrowed his eyes at him. “For how long?”

Mark shrugged, “Forever, I guess.”

Jinyoung blinked. “So, let me get this straight,” he said. “Yugyeom just calls you up and says, ‘Hey, man. Dye it purple.’”

“Yup,” Mark laughed. Counting on his fingers, “I’ve done blonde, blue, pink, brown, silver, everything.”

Jinyoung shook his head, “That’s insane.”

“Is it?” Mark asked, fingers combing into his hair. “I think it’s fun.”

“I would never take a risk like that,” Jinyoung said. “It’s way too big.”

Mark looked over at him, voice going soft. “There’s never a risk too big for those you love.”

And Jinyoung felt his stomach sink. Remembering. He looked up the road, feeling that incline all too suddenly. That uphill struggle that had him suddenly wanting to surrender. Not even sure what surrendering might look like, just knowing that the press of his heart in his chest, the breathless huff of his lungs, didn’t feel as pleasant as they had just a moment ago. 

He screwed his face, trying to sound nonchalant. “What do you even see in my cousin?”

Mark laughed, “What’s wrong with Yugyeom?”

“Nothing,” Jinyoung shook his head. “He’s just… my baby cousin. I don’t really see him as anything more than that.” He looked over to Mark, seeing the glint of his profile in the warm streetlight. “And you’re…” he murmured under his breath. “You.”

Mark caught it anyway. Looking over at him, “What’s that supposed to mean?”

_Beautiful. Witty. Puzzling. Effortless. Wild._

“You know what it means,” he settled on.

Mark was pensive for a moment. “Don’t underestimate him.”

And it wasn’t enough of an answer to sate Jinyoung’s curiosities. He turned, walking backwards in front of Mark and putting a hand to his chest to stop him. “Name me one thing you like about him,” he said, tone going indignant.

Mark looked at him. Going weaker than Jinyoung had ever seen him. Shoulders shrinking and voice softening, “He’s my best friend.”

“Ugh,” he tutted his tongue against his teeth. “Mark, come on.”

“What?” he furrowed his brows.

“That’s so cliche,” Jinyoung laughed. “I’m being serious. What’s so great about him?”

“What do you want me to say?” Mark asked, growing annoyed.

“I don’t know,” Jinyoung shrugged, meeting his aggression. “What’s he like in bed?”

“Of course you’d want to know,” he groaned, maneuvering past him and continuing up the road.

“Hey,” Jinyoung grabbed his arm. “Tell me.”

Mark’s eyes went nervous under the glare of the streetlights, staring him down for a long moment as he thought. “He drools in his sleep,” he said. “Even more so when he’s drunk.”

Jinyoung rolled his eyes. “Now you decide to go all rated G?” he smirked. “That’s unlike you.”

Mark glared at him, pushing his hands away. “You’re the one who’s asking me to tell you about how your cousin fucks,” he snapped. “You interested in him? Or just trying to size up the competition?”

Jinyoung looked at him, not understanding where the sudden bout of nervous anger had come from. “Neither,” he said. Feeling himself coil back. “Fine. Forget I asked,” he sighed. “My place is here.” He went to the gate, unlocking it and letting Mark in.

Jinyoung’s apartment was a small and cozy studio. Just enough to fit his tight budget and keep himself out of his parent’s place. As soon as he got inside, he kicked off his shoes and went to his bookshelf, eyes and fingers scanning for the textbook hurriedly. Because the less amount of time they spent here, the better.

“Got it,” Jinyoung said, pulling it from the shelf. “Let’s go.” But when he turned to the doorway, Mark wasn’t there. He swiveled his head around, eyes finally landing on purple hair sticking out from between the covers of his bed.

“Mark,” Jinyoung’s shoulders dropped. “Get out of there.”

“No,” Mark said, muffled by the covers over his face.. “This is exactly where I want to be.”

Jinyoung reached out, pulling the covers away and grabbing his arm. “It’s not funny,” he struggled, trying to pull him.

But Mark seemed to make himself denser, unmoving in the sheets. “Stop. It’s not a joke,” he laughed.

Jinyoung dropped his arm, scowling at him.

Mark leaned up on his arms, “Stop sulking and join me.”

Jinyoung felt anxious looking down at him in his bed like that. The prospect of laying beside him eliciting too much alongside that anxiety, making him feel light-headed. He swallowed. “I’m supposed to drop you off,” he said, softly.

“And you will,” Mark nodded. “Just lay with me for a little bit.”

Jinyoung told himself, no. He knew where it could lead. But he wanted so badly to delude himself into thinking it could be innocent. That he could leave that bed willingly when the time came to take Mark home. That he’d keep his hands to himself. So that there was nothing more to hide from Yugyeom. He lifted up the cover, sliding into the other side of the bed. His body was too stiff, staring over at Mark.

“So,” the man smiled wide. “This is where the magic happens.”

Jinyoung shook his head.

“No?”

He bit his lips. “I don’t bring people home,” he said.

Mark settled himself against the pillow, staring at him curiously, “Why not?”

“I don’t know,” Jinyoung shook his head. “I’d just rather keep this space for myself.”

“No one has ever asked where you live? Wanted to see it?”

“No,” he leaned onto his back, staring up at the ceiling. “I guess they are kind of preoccupied with getting their fingers inside me.”

The space between them fell so silent that Jinyoung had to look over, seeing Mark’s wide eyes staring back. Studying him.

“I don’t get you,” Mark said, voice coming out sharp. “You sleep with all these guys and you don’t even like them. You don’t even want to be with them. Yet you like _me_ and you won’t sleep with me.”

Jinyoung scoffed, looking back up towards the ceiling. “I regret that phone call,” he said. “It only enabled you.”

“No, you don’t,” Mark said, softly.

Jinyoung didn’t meet his eyes, not having the strength to deny him. “I like them enough for what we do together.”

“When does it end?” Mark asked. “When do you walk away from them?”

Jinyoung’s stomach sank. “I don’t know,” he said. “I guess when they move on from me. And I find a fresh batch.” And the thought of any of them confirming what he believed about himself, that he was useless, worthless, just had him opening up like a pit of despair.

“You don’t have to,” Mark whispered.

Jinyoung looked over to him, seeing his bright eyes glowing back in the low light. “What? And be alone?” he asked. “Spend my prime rotting away until no one wants me?”

“No,” he said. “Just be with someone you love. Someone you don’t mind sharing your space with.”

“Like who?”

“Like me.”

Jinyoung froze, pinned under the look in his eyes, so soft and open and genuine.  
Rendered speechless by it.

“You said it yourself,” Mark shrugged. “You’re not going anywhere, not doing anything. Maybe you could do nothing in California with me.”

Jinyoung felt the nervous rush of his skin at what he was implying. And while part of him wanted to allow himself just a moment to picture what that would be like, he couldn’t bring himself to. Instead, he looked away, rolling his eyes. “And let you shatter my cousin’s heart into a million pieces? Let myself be shunned from the family for being my little cousin’s homewrecker?” He scoffed, “I don’t think so.”

Mark’s hand went to his face, drawing his eyes back to him. “Would you do it if I wasn’t with him?” he asked, nearly whispering.

Jinyoung swallowed. He shook his head, “I’m not going to daydream in hypotheticals with you.”

“Please,” he pleaded, fingers brushing against his cheek.

And it felt so warm and soft, melting through him and making it harder to say no. His mouth fell open, hesitating around his words. “I haven’t thought about it.”

Mark didn’t budge. “Think about it now.”

Jinyoung blinked. Seeing that same insistence in his eyes that he’d seen from the start. The kind that trapped him in this dilemma. He turned towards him until they were facing each other. Weighing his words for so long to try and find the most neutral answer. “Things would be different,” he finally said. “This whole week would have gone a lot differently.”

“How would it have gone?”

And that press of his words, his eyes, his touch, was something he felt on his chest. Nearly aching so hard that the only relief was in letting himself imagine it, not able to withhold his words as he did. “I probably would have let you go down on me in that karaoke room,” he said, too honestly. “And maybe, at the lake, I wouldn’t have tried so hard to be a dick. Maybe, if I was man enough, I would have held your hand, kissed you. The way you should be kissed.” 

He saw the warm glint of Mark’s eyes. Only spurring him to keep going. “I probably would have ditched the club couple to come see you,” he said. “Would have taken you out and walked around the streets of HBC with you, just talking. Just letting myself enjoy you. Before bringing you back here.”

Mark smiled, fingers brushing at hair above his ear. “And the architect?”

“I never would have even let him pick me up from work,” he said. “I would have been too busy keeping you here. Trying to convince you to stay.”

Mark drew his hand away. “You still could keep me here,” he whispered. “Try to convince me to stay.”

Jinyoung ached at the loss of his touch, the thought of what could have been. Overwhelmed by too much wanting, too much not having. “I can’t, Mark,” he sighed.

Mark smiled again, leaning forward.

But Jinyoung put a hand to his chest, stopping him. “I can’t,” he whispered. “I can’t.”

Mark licked his lips. “Indulge me once,” he started to say.

Jinyoung stilled, that hand on Mark’s chest weakening just enough to prompt the man to come closer. So close that Jinyoung could hear the breath shuddering from his lungs as if it was some consolation that he wasn’t the only nervous one, even if Mark was so much better at hiding it under his layers of bravado.

Mark’s mouth hovered. “Pretend with me,” he said, sounding mildly desperate, as if there were a tentative question in it. “Pretend it was that week instead of this one.”

And something in his tone, so close and hushed and pleading had all the excuses falling away. All the images of Yugyeom’s face outshined by the unignorable closeness of Mark’s mouth that he couldn’t draw his eyes away from.

Jinyoung’s hand pushed up his chest, fingers finding the smooth skin of his neck. “Mark,” he murmured. “Please. Don’t go.”

He smiled, wide and beautiful. “Come with me.”

Jinyoung shook his head. “What would we even do?”

“We’d be together. And it would always be warm. Always be us,” he said, almost sounding like he might cry despite his smile. “We’d be so happy, Jinyoung. So happy together.”

And Jinyoung was trying to remember that it wasn’t real, but how could it not feel real with Mark so close and beautiful?

“I want that,” he said, feeling at the purple hair on Mark’s nape. “I want that so bad.”

“Kiss me then,” Mark said. “Kiss me and it's yours.”

And Jinyoung couldn’t deny him anymore so he used that hand at his neck to draw him closer, fitting his lips over Mark’s. It was so much better than last time. Not rushed and heated and laced solely with the sensation of their pheromones interacting. But soft and intentional and meaningful. Every touch and kiss that Jinyoung had withheld all week amounting to this.

Mark let it linger just enough. Letting them have that moment of testing it, just to find out how good it was, before he rolled over him, not breaking the kiss as he sat up in his lap.

Jinyoung felt the small gasp when all of his weight beared down on him, but that gasp only served as an invitation for Mark’s tongue to slide against his mouth. Mark tasted like that creamy sweet condensed milk that he’d licked off his spoon. The world slipped away and Jinyoung, in his effort to pull it back, put his hands to Mark’s hips, dragging them down into him.

Mark whimpered into his mouth, the sound immediately making Jinyoung shiver, as he grinded down against his lap.

Jinyoung felt it everywhere like a hot wave crashing over the sand, drowning any lingering sense. He felt that tightening of his body, like he was coiling around Mark’s little finger. Except he didn’t even care that he was giving him exactly what he wanted, it didn’t matter anymore because it was what he wanted too.

And it hit him harder than it should. This sudden idea that Jinyoung didn’t need this to feel wanted. To feel validated. To feel loved. Because if that's what he had wanted, he could have done that with anyone. But this. This mattered. This was about showing Mark that he needed this, needed him. 

And he couldn’t do that with anyone else but Mark.

Jinyoung tugged at his shirt. “I need this off,” he gritted out. “I need to see you.”

Mark smiled against his mouth as he pulled away, sitting up on him and reaching for the ends of his shirt. He took it off, casting it somewhere on Jinyoung’s floor that no longer existed because nothing was as important as this.

Jinyoung’s hands went up his chest, feeling at every inch of skin, at those tattoos that Mark had mentioned. Smiling at how much more perfect he was than even Jinyoung’s imagination when they had been on the phone. His hands went down to his jeans, palming at the space between his hips and feeling how hard he was already. “I need these off too,” he said. “I need all of it.”

Mark didn’t hesitate to oblige him, pulling away long enough just to push off any remaining clothing before he was crawling back up into Jinyoung’s lap, fingers going to his chest to start working the buttons of his shirt off.

Jinyoung’s fingers went to the bottom of his shirt, doubling their efforts on the buttons. Needing it off, needing to meet Mark’s skin with his. 

And when their hands met in the middle, Mark grabbed them, pinning them over Jinyoung’s head before doing the last one himself, pushing the fabric away. His eyes went wide as he let his fingers splay against Jinyoung’s chest, fingers smoothing down him until he was licking his lips and fumbling with the clasp of his pants.

Jinyoung tightened up, knowing exactly what was coming and feeling how just the prospect of it made his knees weak.

Mark tugged Jinyoung’s pants down, letting them be kicked off before he sat himself between his legs. 

Jinyoung’s cock was laying hard and red and wet against his stomach. Feeling even harder under the stare of Mark’s eyes, the licking of his lips. His whole body tightening up when Mark leaned down, pressing a firm kiss at the base of it. 

Mark trailed his kisses up, tongue peeking out and not even touching his cock at all but instead licking at the skin against his stomach that had been dotted with precum. “Mmm,” he hummed, smiling and wiping his fingers against his lips. “Fuck.”

Jinyoung hissed, leaning up to take that shirt off from his shoulders, wanting no distractions from where this was going.

Mark’s hand wrapped around him, bringing him up to his lips and letting his mouth slip down his length.

Jinyoung’s mouth fell open, groaning at the feeling of his hot mouth against his hot skin. Hips unconsciously rolling up into Mark’s mouth as he took him deeper. He felt Mark’s tongue pressing against the underside and driving him insane as he watched the way he looked so lost in it. So blissed out and sated by merely the taste of him.

Mark pulled off, his lips shiny with a mixture of each of them. “Where’s your lube?” he asked.

Jinyoung’s chest caved as he turned, grabbing it from where he stored it by the bed, but by the time he tried to hand it to Mark, the man’s mouth was back around him. He was taken by surprise, dropping it into the sheets and laying back just to thrust up into his mouth and feel the way that Mark handled him so fucking well. And he couldn’t remember the last time someone did this for him, because it was never usually about him like that.

Mark managed to keep going as he relocated the lost lube and spread it down his fingers before lining them up with Jinyoung’s entrance.

And it was too much in that it was exactly what Jinyoung needed plus more. Plus more than he knew he could ever really need because it felt unbelievably good to have Mark’s hot mouth on him as his fingers slipped inside with just the right amount of resistance.

Jinyoung clenched down around him, gasping at the combination and feeling the smug smile on Mark’s mouth around him when he did.

And Mark barely had to work those fingers into him before Jinyoung was closer than he wanted to be. Close to the edge of something but not willing to jump without Mark jumping too. So he let his hand thread into Mark’s purple hair, pulling him off and looking down at him, breathless. “Please,” he said. “Take me.”

Mark smiled twice as wide now as he pulled his hand away, grabbing that lube in the sheets and slicking himself up before sinking down into Jinyoung.

Jinyoung reached up, grabbing the headboard just to keep from screaming. Cause it was so right, so perfect the way that Mark could fill him like no one else ever had. When he looked up, he could see it in Mark’s face that this was more than he expected too. So much so that he looked frozen, paralyzed by it. Eyes just looking over Jinyoung’s body in quiet want as his chest shook.

“Hey,” Jinyoung said, grabbing his face and pulling him closer. He kissed his mouth, like he was trying to awaken him from whatever thought he was having. “I’m here,” he breathed. “Stay with me.”

Mark’s eyes went a little sad as he swallowed. “But it’s so good,” he panted. “How can it be so good?”

Jinyoung smiled. “It’s going to be even better if you move for me,” he said, kissing him again. “Can you do that for me? Please?”

Mark nodded against his lips as he started to thrust his hips, working up into him. And it must have been just as good as Jinyoung promised because the filthy moans and explicit curses wouldn’t stop falling from his lips. Kissing him and letting them fill Jinyoung’s mouth.

Jinyoung’s ears were burning from them, his whole body going hot from the stretch of Mark inside of him, working up into him in that slow, intentional way, like they were both savoring it. But Jinyoung needed more, he always needed more of this. So he put his hands to Mark’s ass, drawing him in even harder.

“Fuck, Jinyoung,” Mark hissed, nudging at his jaw until he was resting his head against his neck. “Is this why all the boys want you? Cause you feel this good?”

“No,” Jinyoung said, craning his hips downwards, greedily getting every little thrust. “This is why you want me. Cause we feel this good together.”

Mark moaned again, muffling it in the crook of his neck. “I’m not going to last long like this,” he said, nearly embarrassed. “It’s too good, Jinyoung. Too fucking good.”

“Then you better start touching me,” Jinyoung said, grabbing his hand and drawing it to his slick cock.

Mark’s hand closed around it, jerking him in time. Pulling his face away to watch the way Jinyoung’s cock looked in his hand, the way he kept thrusting up into him. Hissing through his teeth like even the sight was too much.

Jinyoung put his hand around Mark’s, getting his attention and looking up into his eyes. “Wait for me, okay?”

And Mark looked at him, something too big in his eyes, feeling too much. “I waited this long, didn’t I?” he smiled, bit his lip as his hand picked up rhythm along with his hips. The motions of both movements becoming so fluid, like one continuous circle that was growing weaker at the edges, quivering and flimsy.

Jinyoung couldn’t decide which he liked better. The way Mark’s hips met his, crashing down into him so beautifully, or the way his hand felt tightening up around him, harkening back to that bathroom they’d met in but so completely different now as Jinyoung just let himself feel everything with reckless abandon.

He felt the clenching of his core, the heat that poured out from everywhere until he knew that Mark could feel it too. His toes curling and his hips lifting and his mouth falling open as he started to whine.

But as soon as he did, Mark was there, kissing him. Like he wanted to be here for it, eating those sounds from the source. “Please, Jinyoung,” he pleaded. “Come with me.”

And it was the same words as before, same genuine pleading in his voice, but there were more meanings there now. And Jinyoung couldn’t help himself as he nodded, licking into Mark’s mouth as he whined through his climax, feeling the hot cum spreading down Mark’s hands and his stomach.

And as soon as Mark felt it too, he was shuddering. Hips stifling and he came inside of him. Kissing him just as firmly as he worked them both through it, panting and whimpering. He fell to the bed, immediately reaching both his arms around Jinyoung and pulling him in. Kissing him again and again as his chest heaved. “Come with me,” he whispered. “Come with me.”

Jinyoung’s heart was still racing in his chest as he laughed, hands working up into Mark’s hair. “I just did, Mark.”

“Let me take you home,” he said, hands working over his skin. “I can’t be without you.”

Jinyoung felt his chest ache, mind too clouded to think straight. “Mark,” he said, pulling away. “Say here with me. Tonight.”

Mark looked at him, breaths still shaky in his chest. “Can we talk about it in the morning?”

Jinyoung nodded, not thinking clearly. “Yeah,” he said. “Just go to sleep. I’ll be here.”

\---

When Jinyoung woke up the next morning, he looked over. Caught off guard by the sight of Mark in his bed, half convinced it was all part of some dream that he’d surely be waking from any moment now. Waking up in someone else’s bed, alone and cold. Not like this. Not feeling so warm and blissful and…

He heard Mark’s voice in his ear. 

_”After you open your eyes and you look at me lying next to you and I become every thought consuming you. And when your body is still weak with sleep and the night before, you look at me like you are trying to decide if you’ve fallen in love with me.”_

Fuck. That’s what it was. That was this ache in his chest that felt deeper than any breath he’d ever taken. 

And that was what Mark had meant last night. When he begged Jinyoung to come home with him. When he said he couldn’t live without him. He didn’t just mean he couldn’t live without his touch or his kiss or his sex. He meant all of him. Like that.

They were in… _oh fuck._

He got up from the bed, stumbling over his things to grab at whatever clothes he could find. Grabbing his essentials as he raced out the door. He wasn’t sure where he was going. Out for some fresh air, some room to breathe. Anywhere Mark wasn’t. Anywhere he could escape from that unsettled feeling he couldn’t shake. That image of the man’s face that wouldn’t leave his mind. 

He was three blocks up the hill when he rounded the corner and nearly ran straight into two figures.

“I’m sorry,” he murmured, trying to weave past them.

“Oh hey, Jinyoung!”

He looked up into Jaebeom and Bambam’s faces. 

“What’s up?” Bambam asked. “What are you doing in the neighborhood?”

Jaebeom furrowed his brows, “Do you live around here?” 

Jinyoung dodged the question. “It’s good to see you two,” he said. “How are you?”

“Well,” Bambam smirked, looking over towards his boyfriend. “We are in the presence of Seoul’s hottest new producer.”

Jinyoung widened his eyes at Jaebeom. “What happened?”

The man looked down to his slides, a creeping blush against his cheeks. “I sent a tape out,” he said, modestly. “A company got back to me. They want to use one of my tracks for a group’s title.”

Jinyoung smiled. “That’s awesome,” he patted him on the back. “Congratulations.”

Bambam grabbed Jaebeom’s face with both hands, squishing his cheeks together. “We are so proud of you,” he laughed. “Come on, Jinyoung,” he said. “You’ve got to come celebrate with us.”

Jinyoung looked back the way he came. “Actually, I was just-” he briefly pictured Mark in his bed. So perfect and so good and fuck, there was that feeling in his chest again. He sighed, trying to stop it. “Yeah, I can come with you.”

A few more blocks up the hill and Jinyoung was sitting at the island in their kitchen, watching Bambam shake up some new fruity looking recipe he hadn’t stopped talking about the whole walk. And as he shook it, Jaebeom’s arms were hugged around him, kissing into his neck and making him giggle and whine.

Jinyoung watched on, feeling that feeling in his chest go empty in a way he couldn’t explain.

“They say this warm front is going to finally cool down after today,” Bambam said as he skillfully poured the drinks over ice for them. 

“Yeah,” Jinyoung sighed. “I’m going to miss it.”

“Don’t miss it too much,” Jaebeom said. “It will be back. Only two more months till summer.”

“Right,” Jinyoung agreed.

“Here,” Bambam slid a drink towards him, raising his own. “Let’s make a toast. To the love of my life, the man of the hour, Im Jaebeom. May this be the first of many more celebrations for you. I love you, hyung.”

Jaebeom smiled, raising his glass. “Love you too,” he said, kissing him sweetly.

Jinyoung felt a twist in his gut. “To Jaebeom-hyung,” he said blankly before they took generous sips of their drinks.

He tasted the overwhelming sweetness of it, realizing what it was when it harkened back to the mango bingsu from the night before. Remembering Mark’s genuine smile around his spoon. How his mouth had still tasted like creamy condensed milk when he kissed him. And that ache in his chest went a little deeper.

“Mmm,” Jaebeom hummed. “Babe. That’s delicious.”

“Right? Can’t beat mango,” Bam smiled, looking over to Jinyoung. His face crinkled. “What’s wrong?”

Jinyoung looked up. “Nothing,” he shook his head.

“Is it the drink?” Bambam asked. “It’s too much ginger, isn’t it?”

“No,” he said. “It’s good.”

“You look like you’re about to cry,” Jaebeom said over the rim of his glass.

Jinyoung blinked, not noticing how his eyes had glossed. “It’s just... allergies,” he said. “You know. Spring blooms.”

The couple exchanged blank stares before taking seats across from him.

“Alright,” Jaebeom sighed. “Tell us.” 

“Tell you what?”

“What’s eating you?” Bambam said, reaching across the counter to grab Jinyoung’s hand. “We’re listening.”

He looked up, glances shifting between both of them. He took a deep breath. “You promise you won’t judge me?”

Jaebeom scoffed, “You remember when I looped that same track for twenty minutes just so I could sneak into the stockroom and watch you blow Bam?”

Bam squeezed his hand, “Or when you watched me steal that bottle of champagne from the top shelf just so I could pour it down Jaebeom’s back while you fucked him?”

“Exactly,” Jaebeom said. “Who are we to judge?”

Jinyoung sighed. His fingers pulling away from Bambam’s hand to trace through the condensation on his glass. “I hooked up with this guy at my family reunion.”

It was silent for a long, drawn out moment.

“Jinyoung,” Jaebeom put his face in his hands. “For the love of god, don’t tell me you fucked your-

“Wow, two Jinyoungs?” Bambam’s eyes went wide. “Can you even imagine? One for each of us!”

Jinyoung shook his head, “We’re not related.”

“Thank god,” Jaebeom sighed, relieved.

“Damn,” Bam’s shoulders fell. “Well, fine. Is he cute?”

Jaebeom smiled, “He can’t be cuter than you, babe.”

Bam looked over at his boyfriend, clutching his chest. “You’re my whole ass heart, you know that right?”

Jinyoung groaned. “Can you guys just stop being obsessed with each other for one second and listen?”

“We’re listening,” Jaebeom whined. “Geez.”

“Anyway,” Jinyoung rolled his eyes. “It turns out that he’s my cousin’s boyfriend. He is in Seoul to meet the family.”

“Oh, yikes,” Bambam hissed, taking a sip of his drink.

“Yeah, I know,” Jinyoung said, looking down at his hands. “But things have just kept happening. And I don’t really know what to do about it.”

“Things?” Jaebeom raised a brow. “What kind of things?”

“Physical things,” Jinyoung murmured. “And feeling things, I guess.”

The couple went silent.

Jinyoung looked up at them, seeing the wide smiles across their faces. “What are you two smiling about?”

Bambam licked his lips. “You’re in love,” he said surely.

Jinyoung’s mouth fell open, hesitating. Wanting to deny it but not sure he honestly could.

Bambam’s smile went wider. “The man is in love!” he cheered, raising his drink again. “Let’s drink to that.”

“That’s so great,” Jaebeom said, clinking glasses. “Congratulations, man.”

“What?” Jinyoung blinked. “Did you hear me?” he asked. “Look. It doesn’t matter. Because even if I do love him, I can’t-”

“Jinyoung,” Bambam stopped him. “Love is the most beautiful, powerful force on this planet. There’s no ‘can’t’ with love. There’s only ‘do’.” 

They all went quiet.

Jinyoung sighed. “I know it was meant to be inspirational, but that was really lame.”

Bambam shrugged, “You can’t win them all.”

“Hey. I liked it,” Jaebeom slung an arm around his boyfriend’s shoulder before turning back to Jinyoung. “But, it begs the question. What will you do?”

Jinyoung looked up at them, seeing them pressed together. Jaebeom’s arm around Bambam while the bartender played with the rings on his fingers passively. Both of them so comfortable and happy and in love. And it was overwhelming when he realized why it had been so hard to look at them this week. Because ever since that family reunion, all he’d been craving was something like what they had. With Mark. And only Mark.

Jinyoung sighed, holding up his glass. “Can I get one of these for the road?”

Bambam furrowed his brows, “Why?”

“I’m going to need it for where I’m going,” he said, downing the rest of it.

“Where are you going?” Jaebeom asked.

He wiped his mouth with his thumb. “I need to tell my cousin. Need to tell him what happened. How I feel. Before it’s too late.”

“Too late?” Jaebeom asked.

“The guy. He’s leaving today,” Jinyoung said. “He’s going home to Los Angeles.”

“What are you doing here then?” Bam groaned, jumping up. “Okay. A double on the double.”

\---

By the time Jinyoung got to Yugyeom’s university campus, his face was still warm from the kisses that Bambam had peppered his cheeks with. His shoulders still sore from Jaebeom’s firm hug.

“If he visits again, we can double date,” Bambam had smiled. 

Jinyoung nodded, “I think he’d like that.”

Jaebeom shrugged, “Or you know, if he’s into swapping-”

“Let him focus on getting the guy first, hyung,” Bambam rubbed his boyfriend’s shoulders.

Jinyoung sent Yugyeom a text when he arrived. Watching the ellipses flash for only a moment before the message came through.

_Hold on. I’m just getting out of class._

Jinyoung tried not to feel the rush of nerves overtake every thought as he paced outside the building, anxiously rehearsing the words he’d worked out on the subway ride over.

“I know I’m your older cousin,” he murmured under his breath. “And because of that-”

“Jinyoung!” Yugyeom yelled.

Jinyoung looked up watching him run up and smother him in a hug.

“What are you doing here?” he smiled. “Did you forget to give Mark that textbook?”

Jinyoung put his hands to Yugyeom’s chest, making space between them. He took a deep breath. “We need to talk.”

Yugyeom’s face twisted up. “Have you been drinking? You smell tropical.”

Jinyoung shook his head, “Just a little day drinking.” He pointed to the bench behind them, “Let’s have a seat.”

Yugyeom sank down across from him, his face unsettled. “What’s wrong?”

Jinyoung’s fingers folded together in his lap. “I know I’m your older cousin. And because of that, the family has always asked that I watch over you. Make sure that you are doing the right thing. Hanging out with the right people.”

“Yes, hyung,” Yugyeom sighed. “It’s super annoying. I’m not a middle schooler anymore. I’m graduating from university in two months.”

“I know you are,” Jinyoung nodded. “But,” he tried to work up every ounce of courage he had. “I can’t in good faith say that you should move to Los Angeles with Mark.”

“What?” Yugyeom’s eyebrows drew together. “Why not?”

“He’s not who you think he is.”

Yugyeom’s shoulders dropped. “Okay, who put you up to this? Was it my mom?”

“No,” Jinyoung shook his head. “No one put me up to this.”

“Then tell me,” he said, getting impatient. “Tell me why I shouldn’t move.”

Jinyoung’s tongue felt numb in his mouth. He tried to swallow the feeling down but it kept getting stuck in his throat, making it impossible to work up the words. 

“Jinyoung,” Yugyeom warned.

He pushed them up with all his strength. “He cheated on you,” he finally sputtered. “He cheated on you with me.”

Yugyeom’s face fell. “What?”

His stomach churned. “I slept with Mark.”

But all he was met with was Yugyeom’s blank face, his silence.

So he rushed to fill the ambiguous quiet. “I know that makes me horrible. And him horrible. But please, Yugyeom. Just listen to me,” he reached out, holding one of his hands. His eyes casted downwards toward the pavement. “Things have been happening. Things I can’t explain,” he said softly. “And I know it sounds completely insane, but…” he looked up at him, eyes wide. “I think I’m in love with him.”

Yugyeom’s face tightened up, lips drawing into a thin line. Holding a breath for a moment before it burst out of him in a raucous stream of laughter. The boy clutched his stomach, folded over as he laughed.

Jinyoung looked at him, shocked. His eyebrows turning downwards into a scowl. “Why are you laughing?” he asked. “Do you think I’m kidding?”

“No,” Yugyeom waved his hand, face turning red. “It’s just-” he couldn’t get the words out. He was hysterical.

“Then what is it?” he fumed. “What the fuck? I don’t get you. I am trying to be honest with you and you’re laughing in my face like some kind of lunatic.”

“He didn’t tell you?” Yugyeom looked up, choking on his laughter again. “Oh my god,” he wiped tears from his eyes. “I can’t. Oh my god, he’s hilarious. I love him.”

Jinyoung fisted his hands, jumping to his feet. “Can you please stop?” he yelled. “I’m like a little bit drunk and I might cry if you don’t quit laughing at me after I just lamely confessed my love for my cousin’s boyfriend who I’ve known for a goddamn week and-”

“He’s not my boyfriend,” Yugyeom shook his head, still sounding like he was dying.

Jinyoung froze. “What?”

“Yeah,” he tried to catch his breath. “It’s fake.”

“What’s fake?”

“The relationship.” 

Jinyoung stared at him, watching his red face go pink under his intense gaze. “Yugyeom,” he seethed. “You’re going to have to give me a lot more context than that.”

“Then sit down, hyung,” he smiled. “You’re causing a scene.”

“I’m causing a scene? You sound like a parrot being choked to death.”

“You’re the one yelling,” Yugyeom giggled, grabbing his arm and pulling him back down onto the bench. 

He sat, grimacing. “Yugyeom. Tell me.”

“Fine,” he rolled his eyes. “As you know, I met Mark when I studied abroad. I told him I wanted to move out there after I graduate. But you know how my mom is. She doesn’t trust me going to the grocery store by myself, let alone a foreign country. So the idea was that if I said I was dating Mark, she’d feel more secure about letting me go.”

Jinyoung stared blankly at him. “You’re joking,” he said. “This was all just a scheme?”

“I mean, it worked,” Yugyeom shrugged. “I’m moving the week after graduation.” 

“So,” Jinyoung blinked. “You aren’t dating him?”

“No way,” Yugyeom laughed again. “He’s like my best friend. And also a total mess. So it’s really not surprising that you two gravitated towards each other.”

“But… he never told me,” Jinyoung shook his head. “Why wouldn’t he have told me?”

Yugyeom shrugged, “Ask him yourself.”

“I can’t. He’s-” he stopped, looking at his watch.

Yugyeom shrugged, “I mean if you really want to make a dramatic last minute confession, we probably still have time to grab a bite to eat on the way.”

“As if you’re coming with me,” he sighed, taking off toward the station. “I’ll kick your ass later!”

“We’ll see about that,” Yugyeom shouted. “And tell Mark I said he’s going red next!”

\---

In his loftiest and most romantic of dreams, Jinyoung pictured a drawn out chase sequence once he got to the airport. After all, the only thing Yugyeom was able to text him about Mark’s itinerary was his airline. But as soon as he got into the terminal, trying to find a map to figure out where the airline desk was located, he looked up and saw a head of purple hair waiting in line at a cafe.

Mark had a tray in his hand, piled high with pastries as he pushed it closer to the register. Weighing heavier on one sneaker as he rummaged through his wallet.

And just seeing him made Jinyoung’s shoulders drop in relief. As he rushed up behind him, he reached for his own back pocket.

“Will that be all?” the cashier asked in accented English.

“I can get it,” Jinyoung interjected, extending his card past Mark’s shoulder.

The man turned towards him and as soon as their eyes met, his whole face filled with a look Jinyoung had never seen on him before. Shock.

Jinyoung’s chest filled with a breath. And it wasn’t heavy and ominous anymore but thrilled. “Hey,” he smiled.

Mark blinked for a moment, before his face fell into something blank, expressionless. Seemingly immune to Jinyoung’s charm. He picked up his tray and started walking away.

Jinyoung watched, feeling that breath in his chest go rushed and nervous. “Wait,” he called after him. He looked back toward the counter. “I’m sorry, but could you-”

The cashier’s eyes were wide as they hastily handed back his card. “Go,” they said. “Hurry.”

And Jinyoung did, watching as Mark took a seat at the farthest end of the cafe. He followed him, maneuvering around the tables and patrons before sinking down into the seat across from him.

Mark raised his eyes, not amused. “So tell me,” he said, unwrapping a bun and taking a bite. “How was your morning?”

Jinyoung felt the nervous churn of his stomach. “I’m sorry I left. I had to take a walk,” he leaned his elbows onto the table, watching his fingers wear together. “Think about some stuff.”

“I heard you leave,” Mark said flatly. “I tried to chase after you. But I saw you run into your friends. Was that-?”

“The club couple?” Jinyoung looked up at him, stomach sinking. “Yeah, it was.”

Mark sighed, taking another bite and talking around a full mouth. “I guess old habits really do die hard.”

“It wasn’t like that,” Jinyoung shook his head. “Nothing happened. It’s just-” he held his breath, trying to recollect his thoughts. Trying not to let this conversation divert. “You didn’t tell me.”

Mark’s brows furrowed, “Didn’t tell you what?”

“That it was fake. Your relationship with Yugyeom.”

Mark swallowed down his bite. “It wasn’t my secret to tell,” he smiled, full of sarcasm.

“Come on,” Jinyoung reached out, grabbing his hand and feeling him stiffen under the touch. “Seriously. Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked. “You could have had me whenever you wanted yet you didn’t.”

Mark looked down at where their hands met. “I told you,” he said, voice small. “By the lake I told you. Did you forget?”

Jinyoung thought back. To the bittersweet taste on his tongue and the walls he’d tried so hard to put up between them. The ones that never seemed to deter Mark. And when he tried to remember the words, just like that bittersweet flavor, they felt all too familiar on his tongue. “I’m going to have fun with this,” he repeated them. “Pushing you off this last inch of moral high ground and watching you fall for me.”

“So much for that,” Mark scoffed, drawing his hand away and crossing his arms over his chest. “Maybe one day, I’ll learn not to make games out of people I don’t want to lose.”

Jinyoung stared at him across the table, watching the shame play out on his face. “Mark,” he sighed. He reached out, putting a hand under the man’s chin and raising it to meet his eyes. He smiled wide. “Who said anything about losing?”

Mark’s brows furrowed, eyes washing over Jinyoung and landing somewhere on his smile. His thoughts playing out across his face as his eyes widened in realization. “That’s why you left this morning,” he breathed, a smile spreading across his handsome face. “Because you did fall for me, didn’t you?”

“Yeah,” Jinyoung nodded. “That’s why.” He let his thumb graze across Mark’s soft cheek. “And that’s why I stormed out on the architect. And ghosted the personal trainer. And told the club couple the truth. Because I’ve fallen so hard for you, Mark. And I don’t need them to feel wanted. I just need you.” 

Mark’s smile just got brighter, going all the way up to his eyes. Letting them sparkle as he drew Jinyoung’s hand up his cheek, tilting his face into his touch. “If it’s any consolation,” he said, kissing his palm before looking back at him. “I fell for you first.”

Jinyoung felt the warmth from Mark’s kiss spread down his arm, making everything go soft and tingly.

“Though,” Mark kissed his hand again, eyes trained on him. “I’m still waiting for you to say it.”

Jinyoung laughed, reaching up to tuck a strand of purple away from the man’s face. “I love you, Mark,” he said earnestly. “You’re fucking wild but I love you.”

Mark’s sharp teeth wore into his lip. “I love you, too, Jinyoung.”

Jinyoung felt the kick of his chest. The one that had laid so dormant until Mark had brought it to life. He let his fingers fold into Mark’s as he let their hands rest against the table again. “So, that’s it?” he raised an eyebrow. “We’re two lame ass people who are in love with each other now?”

Mark laughed. “Yeah,” he nodded. “That’s exactly who we are.”

Jinyoung smiled, “Was it as much fun as you thought it would be?”

“No,” Mark shook his head. “It was twice as fun.”

Jinyoung groaned with a smile. “I hate you so much,” he laughed.

Mark shrugged, “And yet, you’re here. At the airport. Having the cafe employees think you’re trying to reenact some rom-com.”

Jinyoung looked over and sure enough the four employees behind the counter were watching them, stilled and wide-eyed.

Mark came closer, whispering in his ear, “I think they are waiting for a kiss.”

Jinyoung turned his head, seeing how close his face was. “Let’s not make them wait any longer,” he said. He stood up, pulling Mark out of his seat. “Come here.” And he drew Mark’s face close as he leaned in to kiss him gently. And when they both heard the collective “awww” from behind the cafe counter, he pulled away.

Mark’s face was beaming, the sound of his laugh stitched between his teeth. “Like I said twice as fun,” he giggled. “Definitely worth the trip.”

“Shut up,” Jinyoung growled through his smile, holding Mark’s face close. “You’re so annoying.”

“Shut me up yourself,” Mark whispered.

“I will,” he said, kissing him again. Feel that smile he loved so much against his mouth and knowing how much it held.

Jinyoung suddenly pulled away. “By the way,” he said. “You’re dying your hair red next.”

“Red?” Mark’s brows drew together. “Hmm,” he considered. “Red could be good.”

\---

When Jinyoung and Yugyeom stepped out of the airport, pushing a cart full of luggage, the air was immediately sauna hot and tickling at every nerve, eliciting chills down Jinyoung’s skin. He looked up seeing the haze of golden light and the sway of palms. So different from anything he’d ever known, though familiar. Like maybe he’d never seen this place, but he’d felt it, in the form of a person.

“Oh, god,” Yugyeom pulled at the collar of his t-shirt. “You think it’s always this hot here?”

“Yeah,” Jinyoung smiled to himself. “I do.”

“Welcome home!” 

Jinyoung’s gaze followed the voice, seeing a car parked at the curb. A pair of lopsided hips leaned up against the door. Bright red hair and an even brighter smile. “Mark!” he called.

The man ran up, laughing and jumping into Jinyoung’s arms.

He caught him, seeing his handsome face up close for the first time in two months. And feeling all of that chest-swelling emotion it filled him with. “I missed you so much,” he whispered.

“I missed you more,” Mark smiled, dragging his face closer to kiss him.

“Uhhh,” Yugyeom groaned from behind them. “You guys are so gross. Can you at least wait till you get home before you start ripping each others’ clothes off?”

Mark pulled away, looking into his eyes. “If we must,” he laughed. “Come on. Let’s get on the road before rush hour hits.”

The three loaded up the car with all the luggage they’d brought before Jinyoung sat in the passenger set alongside Mark.

“So, Yugyeom,” Mark asked, putting on his seatbelt and adjusting his mirror to see the boy in his backseat. “Are you excited about you two finally living here? Excited to be our roommate?”

Yugyeom scoffed, pulling at the headphones around his neck. “I’ll have you know, I’ve invested in these top of the line noise cancelling headphones.”

Mark looked over his shoulder, “Do you want to start testing them out?”

Yugyeom’s brows furrowed. “What do you mean?”

Mark reached across the center console, grabbing Jinyoung’s thigh roughly. “You know that amazing phone sex we’ve been having over the past two months?” he smiled. “Well, when we get home, I’m going to suck your dick so good, you’ll-”

“AH,” Yugyeom yelled, hastily slipping the headphones onto his ears. “Watch it, Mark. Before I make that hair on your head polka dot.”

Mark cackled, pulling out of the arrivals line as the car went quiet. Only the hum of the road and the distant beat of Yugyeom’s music. 

Jinyoung sighed. “Much better.”

“So,” Mark peeked over at him. “You moved all the way to Los Angeles for me. Quite the risk.”

Jinyoung shrugged, “Someone once told me that there’s never a risk too big for those you love.”

Mark smiled, keeping his eyes on the road. “I think you’re going to love it here,” he said, reaching out to grab his hand.

Jinyoung intertwined their fingers together over the console. “I mean you’ve been right about everything else that I love.”

“Do you still hate it?” Mark looked over, scrunching his nose. “How much you love me?”

“No,” Jinyoung shook his head. “I think I love how much I love you.”

Mark smiled, brilliant and radiant in the golden summer light. “I love how much I love you too.”


End file.
